Masks of Fury, Masks of Death
by silver.wings.34
Summary: This is the stuff Epps would do, but worse. A lot worse." Booth and Bones are invited to a masqurade ball, but when people start turning up dead, and there is the promise of more, can the duo "unmask" the killer in time? Final chapter posted!
1. Blackmailed

Hey everyone, I decided to try something far less angsty this time. I had a dream about this story and the idea just wouldn't leave me alone. Keep in mind that it's going to be a long one. I'll try to update regularly, but that whole college thing might get in the way . Happy reading!

---------------------------------------------------------------------

Masks of Fury, Masks of Death

_Andy turned to her, his eyes softening as they took in her naked beauty._

Temperance Brennan frowned as she stared at the computer screen in front of her. She couldn't seem to find the right adjectives to describe Andy's bare, well muscled chest. Her fingers sat poised over the keyboard, but her mind remained blank.

"Darling," an excited voice sounded from the door. Temperance didn't even need to look up to know that Marilynn Johnson, her newest publicist was leaning against the door, large, practiced smile in place. She looked up anyways, acknowledging the woman without so many words. Marilynn took the slightly exasperated look in stride as she walked, no _shuffled_, into the office, her high heels and tight skirt constricting movement. She took a seat on the couch with what could only be described as flourish.

"Now, don't look so blue," Marilynn chastised, "I have fabulous news!" Her hands flipped animatedly with her exclamation before digging into the bag she had set beside her. Temperance had remained silent up to this point, letting the woman trill on. Though her personality was grating, she was excellent at her job, and Brennan couldn't overlook that. Sashaying over to the desk, Marilynn presented the author with an envelope, _Doctor Temperance Brennan_, written in calligraphy on the front.

"What is this?" She finally questioned, examining the envelope for some sort of answer.

"Well open it up and find out silly," Marilynn said with an airy laugh.

Brennan opened the envelope (a formal wax seal she noted), to find an invitation.

"What is this?" she repeated with the slightest bit of panic seeping into her voice.

"An invitation of course," Marilynn cried out happily, "To one of _the_ biggest events of the season, of the _year_!"

Temperance took another look at the stationary she had pulled out. The crème parchment was edged in gold, elegant lettering outlining the place and time of the _ball_. No, it wasn't just a ball; it was a black tie _Masquerade _ball. She looked back up at Marilynn, panic making itself very present on her face.

"ooh, we are going to have _such_ a fantastic time darling," the publicist said, practically jumping in anticipation.

"No, no way," Brennan said, pushing herself out of the desk chair. She started pacing by the bookshelf, trying to find the most eloquent way to say 'hell no'.

"Darling," Marilynn said with a pout. Her shoulders slumped slightly from her client's declaration, "but you have to go! I already asked you boss and she said the same thing. That Dr. Saroyan is such a gem!"

"Cam. Cam told you I had to go?" Temperance never thought Marilynn would sink low enough to black mail her through her boss and friend.

"Well of course! I had to ask her, because the event is being thrown by one of the _biggest_ donors to the Jeffersonian," she stated as if it should be obvious. And now, Brennan realized, it was. David Ashby was a multibillionaire who had provided a majority of the Jeffersonian's resources. Cam would only be too happy to have her star scientist do some free PR.

"And the dreamiest, if I do say so myself," Marilynn added, fanning herself with her well manicured hand. Her voice dropped to a conspiratorial whisper, "speaking of dreamy."

Brennan turned, seeing Booth walking to her office, grin and cocky belt buckle firmly in place. She saw the hungry look on Marilynn's face and the way she adjusted her posture, arching her back and puffing out her chest.

"Agent Booth, _Darling_," she crooned, sly smile adorning her ruby red lips. Booth, to his credit, looked rather stunned to see Marilynn Johnson leaning on Bones' desk while Bones herself stood by the bookshelf, her arms crossed petulantly over her chest. His eyes flicked between the two, knowing how much Bones disliked the woman currently sauntering towards him. He gulped slightly, having experience with the somewhat predatory woman now in front of him.

"Ms. Johnson, how good to see you," he said haltingly, trying to hide his discomfort.

"Oh, you as well," she replied, her ravenous eyes trailing up his chest to his eyes.

"Booth, do we have a case," Bones interrupted, wanting all of this over as soon as possible. Booth stepped back and towards his partner, dodging Marilynn's hands as they attempted to trail up his biceps.

"No Bones, just lunch. What are you up to," he asked, spying something in her hands. She saw him looking at the card and pulled it away from his view, trying not to add fuel to Marilynn's ludicrous fire.

"We are discussing the _marvelous _party we're all going to attend on Saturday," the vivacious woman cut in.

"All," Booth and Bones questioned simultaneously. Marilynn just grinned and turned, walking over to her bag on the sofa and pulling out an envelope identical to the one she had handed Temperance earlier. She strutted back towards them and handed Booth the envelope with a Cheshire smile.

"You're invited too, FBI guy."

Booth's forehead creased in confusion as he flipped the envelope over and opened it. His expression smoothed out to one of surprise as he read the contents. He was about to question the publicist about it, when her phone let out a shrill tone and she jumped up from her perch on the edge of the desk to get it. She started chatting animatedly with the person on the other end as she gathered her things up in her arms and waved goodbye to the two partners holding their respective invitations. They watched her leave and then turned to each other.

"A masquerade, really?"

Brennan just sighed, setting her invitation on the table.

"Yes, and Cam is making me go so I can smooch the donors," she said, trying to keep her irritation in check.

"Schmooze, Bones, schmooze the donors. I get that, but why was I invited," he questioned, truly baffled why a bunch of rich snobs would want him at their gala.

"Because you are the official liaison to the institute _and _Dr. Brennan's partner," Cam's voice came from the doorway. She gave them both a stern look when each tried to talk their way out of the event. "You are going _together_ and that's final." Her lips twitched as she held back a grin before walking away. The pair stared after her for a moment and then looked back at each other. Booth put his hands in his pockets and rocked on the balls of his feet.

"So, lunch then?"


	2. Escape

After lunch at the diner ("It's Strawberry Rhubarb Tuesday, Bones!"), Brennan returned to her office to keep working on her book and miscellaneous paperwork. After staring at her computer for twenty more minutes, she heaved an irritated sigh and left the quiet solitude her office provided.

"Hey Ange, what are you up to," she asked as she entered the artist's headquarters.

"Just routine maintenance," she replied while facing the screen. She tapped a few more buttons before giving her full attention to her best friend. "What can I do for you?"

Brennan quickly walked into the room, taking her spot in the chair by Angela's desk.

"I need help," she said exasperatedly, holding out the invitation. Angela took the paper, reading quickly through it. By the time she had finished, she was almost out of her chair in excitement.

"Come on," she said, pulling her friend to her feet, "I know just the place!"

------------------------------------------------------------------------

The rest of the week went by in a blur. After she had found a dress ("_The_ dress" Angela had said in awe), Brennan found it had been a whirlwind getting everything else required for the event. She was thankful her best friend had been to as many costume parties as she had, for she knew just how to make a mask to match and ensure it wouldn't bug Brennan all night.

_And now the night is here_, she thought as she stepped into her outfit. Angela had come by earlier to do her makeup and hair, and Booth was going to pick her up soon. She looked at the clock as she secured her shoes. Ten minutes. She felt the swoop of nerves into her stomach and examined herself in the mirror. _Not bad, even if it's not scientifically accurate_ she thought. Testing out a smile, she watched her reflection do the same. She shook herself out of her thoughts and gathered the rest of her necessities for the night.

Ten minutes later, on the dot, she heard a knock. She walked over to the door (practicing all week in her heels had paid off), pausing before she opened it. Once she did, it revealed a very suave looking Booth leaning against the frame. His eyes grew wide and he stood up straight as he looked at the woman, _vision_ his mind corrected him, standing before him.

His eyes roamed down her form as he took in everything about her. The dress, form fitting to her knees, flared slightly, swishing with each nervous movement she made. The electric blue material brought out her cobalt eyes even more, and had threads of metallic green running throughout it. The dress did not reveal much, but it was stunning nonetheless. He was sure his heart had stopped beating for a moment. When she turned around, beckoning him to follow, he knew it did. While the neckline was modest, the scandalously low back revealed what the front could not. The bare expanse of skin ended at the curve in her back where his hand usually rested, but it was below, below her toned back and porcelain skin, that was the key. The dress flowed out in a slight train, subtly accentuating her curves. The train was covered in dozens of embroidered peacock feathers, the thread glittering in the light. Real feathers from a peacock adorned the top of the train and added to her ethereal effect.

He blinked himself out of his trance, letting her know how absolutely stunning she looked. She blushed, dipping her head bashfully, then returned the compliment, secretly admiring the way his perfectly tailored tuxedo fit his form.

"Are you ready Ms. Peacock," he asked, holding out his arm to her. She took it and grabbed her purse before starting a lecture about the scientific inaccuracies of her costume that Angela wouldn't let her finish at the store.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------

As they wound their way through the Virginia country side, they discussed everything and nothing. They were laughing about a childhood story Booth was telling about Jared when his phone let off a sharp, chirrupy ring. He plucked it out of his pocket, answering with his customary "Booth", before listening to the voice on the other end. All traces of laughter disappeared from his face and he slammed his palm on the steering wheel in anger. After a few choice words, he hung up, his mouth drawn in a thin line.

"That was the director of the Penitentiary," he said before his partner could ask, "Del Amitri, the musician we arrested two months ago for murder, escaped today and they wanted to put us on alert." The anger radiated through his voice and he hit the steering wheel once again for good measure.

"Do we have to go back," Brennan asked calmly, disappointment starting to drip through her veins.

Booth sighed deeply, reigning in his fury at the incompetence of the wardens. "No, we're already dressed up, and we can't do much until they catch him again." They drove on, both relaxing back into their jovial moods from before.

"It should be just around this bend," Bones said some time later as she read the directions on the back of her invitation once again. Booth mumbled something about his GPS, Parker and peanut butter not ever being a good combo, but the rest of the story died on his lips as he pulled up to the gates of the huge, forested estate. Both adults tilted their heads to see through the windshield better, awed into silence. The gates opened up, beckoning them into the manor with an eerie silence. Booth drove to the man in blue motioning for them to turn to the left, towards the Lexus, Audi and BMW covered lot. After parking, the pair came back to the man who told them that cars were not allowed to the main house tonight. Booth and Brennan shared confusion until the man went on to explain that a horse drawn carriage would take them up to the gala on the hill above them. At his words, a midnight black horse trotted forward, carrying a rather ornate 15th century French carriage behind it (or at least, that what Bones had told Booth). The agent helped his partner into the fairytale-esque ride before stepping in himself.

The ride to the mansion was quiet as the horse trotted along the candle lit path. Brennan fidgeted with her bracelet, the emerald and diamond bauble shooting off sparkling rays in the clear moonlight.

"You know," she started, finally meeting her partner's eyes across the carriage, "despite this night, and Marilynn for that matter, being completely asinine, I'm glad you came."

She gave him a small smile, biting on her lightly glossed lips. He was about to say thank you, but was halted when he realized the horse had stopped and they were now at the grand entrance of the manor in the hills. They heard the laughter and music from within and both exited their ride, completely awestruck at the grandeur they were observing up close. Brennan took Booth's proffered arm and they followed the sounds to the ballroom.

The pair stood in the doorway at the top of the stairs watching the hundreds of people dancing and laughing below. Booth moved to walk in but Brennan's hand on his arm stopped him. She opened her purse and pulled out a mask to match her gown, feathers rising from her right temple and flowing across her forehead. Looking at her date expectantly, he finally heaved a sigh and pulled a black mask out of his jacket pocket, donning it as well.

"You look like Zorro," she said with a smirk as they made their way down the stairs.

"Zorro? _You_ know Zorro," he asked, turning to look at her incredulously. She just smiled cheekily and turned to accept a drink from a passing waiter.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

A/N: Ok guys, the next chapter is where the adventure (i.e.: murder) starts! Thanks for reading!


	3. knife to the heart

So, I forgot to add in the last chapter that Del Amitri, the escaped convict of today's story is actually one of my favorite musicians. I also doubt that he is an actual convict. Just to clear the air :-) Here's the party!

------------------------------------------------------

For the next hour and a half, Booth and Bones wandered around the great hall, greeting fellow guests and doling out compliments. Brennan chatted amicably with everyone, discussing her books and only tripping over social niceties once or twice. Booth for his part was quite impressed that his partner seemed to be having such a good time while he preferred to stay in the periphery of the conversations until Bones introduced him. There were only so many times he could hear about someone's new yacht, the price of their jet's refurbishment or the house they had in the South Seas that was "just _divine_". He shifted uncomfortably by Bones' elbow as she talked to other potential donors about the Jeffersonian and her travels around the world. After the conversation ended and the other couple walked away, Bones turned to him with an annoyed smile as she said, "I really hate these kinds of things."

Booth, who was about to make a comment about her ease with everyone, was stopped as he spotted Marilynn Johnson making her way towards them in a scandalously low red gown. The ornate mask covering much of her face did not stop him from recognizing the predatory, hawk-like gait the publisher possessed. Booth turned to his partner, simply saying, "Dance with me," before spinning her onto the dance floor. Her momentary shock gave way to a smile and easy conversation as Booth guided her through the easy waltz being played by the string quartet in the corner. The pair laughed and danced effortlessly until a tap on Brennan's shoulder brought her face to face with David Ashby.

"May I cut in with the beautiful lady," he asked, watching Booth with a calculated gaze. Booth looked at his partner and when she gave him a simple shrug, consented, stepping a few feet away to watch her auburn curls sway in time.

As the host led her in the more complicated dance, she observed the simple green and black mask that hid his classic good looks. She had met Ashby on many other occasions and was always impressed with his variety of knowledge. They conversed easily, commenting about old Gregory Sanders who was asleep in the corner. David stopped dancing as he noticed one of his black suited security guards approaching. Some whispered words turned the host pale with shock. He gulped audibly, almost falling if Brennan and the guard had not caught his shoulders. Bones motioned to her partner who followed the three people out of the room.

The guard led them down a hall and up a back staircase before stopping before the room. At Ashby's nod, the guard opened the door. Ashby's strangled cry of grief mixed with Booth and Brennan's own shocked utterances as they saw the beautiful woman lying prone in a pool of blood. The silent guard restrained Ashby, turning him to a chair across the room. Once he had calmed himself enough, Booth quietly questioned him as Brennan observed the body.

"Her, her name is Marguerite De Lacue. She and I, well, we, we were together. I was going to propose tonight," Ashby finally revealed, before breaking down again.

"Can you think of anyone who would have wanted her dead," Booth asked with as much sympathy as he could convey.

"Nnnno," Ashby stuttered, promptly turning white again and throwing up in the trashcan besides the study's desk. Booth stood up from his position by Ashby and made his way over to the victim. Her deep emerald ball gown floated around her, creating a sickening color as red mixed with green.

"See right here." Bones pointed out a bruise on the back of the neck to Booth, "Her neck was snapped, but not enough to kill. She was still alive after this injury, most likely paralyzed." They heard Ashby retching in the corner again, but Booth turned back to his partner.

"So what did kill her," he questioned, not sure he wanted to know how the young blonde on the floor was taken. Bones looked at him once before kneeling down and turning the body over. Stab wounds covered the woman's torso, making Booth grimace at the brutality of the act. Bones looked up at him from her squatted position by the body.

"Marguerite De Lacue was stabbed multiple times, resulting in exsanguination," she said in her most detached voice.

Booth looked back up at the victim's face, partially hidden by the silver mask covering her left side. Her blue eyes looked out emptily upon the small group in the room, still frozen in shock. Bones took the victim's right hand in her own, noting the lack of defensive wounds. Booth watched her at work, studying, looking for answers.

"So, wait, she was _alive_ when she was stabbed like that," he asked, the pure atrocity of the act washing over him.

"My count at the moment is fourteen times, and yes she was. She was most likely attack from behind, paralyzed, and then stabbed," Bones replied, her own sapphire eyes looking at him with scientific detachment. Booth saw traces of worry flicker through her eyes, but didn't mention it. He looked by her feet and an ominous chill ran up his spine.

"Bones, your dress," he said, watching the blood, the death, that was slowly leaching into her hem. She looked down and then stepped back, away from the pool of blood.

"We have to get her back to the lab for a full analysis," she said, lips in a grim line as she walked over to him, "The murderer may still be here. We need keep everyone detained."

Suddenly a shrill scream came from the direction of the ballroom, followed by dozens of other shouts of shock. Bones' head whipped from the sound and back to her partner before they both took off down the corridor to the party, followed closely by the Ashby's security guard.

They reached room in record time to see the crowd backing away from the form of Gregory Sanders, sitting in that same chair by the window. Booth moved to check his pulse when Bones' hand shot out, grabbing his wrist. It was then he noticed the thin ribbon of blood around Sanders' collar that appeared to be spreading.

"Decapitated," Bones said solemnly, swallowing her own shock at the sight.

Before he could question her about it, the room was plunged into darkness and Booth felt the grip around his wrist tighten in fear.


	4. Poison

Hey guys, sorry about some of the typos in the last chapter! I didn't notice them until later, and I'll probably repost but still, sorry! Now we let the games begin!

------------------------------------------------------------------------

The silence in the room seemed to extend past the far reaches of the estate. The nervous energy became a tangible entity and even Booth couldn't stop the knot of dread from forming in his throat. He felt Bones take a step closer to him, tension radiating off of her. Before they could speak, a single spot light came on soundlessly, shining on the body in the chair and catching the partners in its inky edges. Shocked gasps rose from the crowd behind them and Booth squeezed the hand now holding his. Once their eyes adjusted to the new element, they noticed the sign now sitting against the victim's chest.

_Let's play a game, it will be fun. _

_They'll all start dying one by one. _

_You have a choice, don't have to play._

_But guests won't live another day. _

_Or solve the clues, I hope you can._

_Before it spells _

_B-R-E-N-N-A-N_

"Booth," she breathed next to him, "It's, it's in blood."

The lights came back up, but no one moved. Looks of horror covered everyone's faces.

"What's going on," a voice demanded from the crowd.

"I'm Special Agent Seeley Booth from the FBI and this is Doctor Temperance Brennan from the Jeffersonian. Please, everyone just stay here, don't leave this room. We have the situation under control." He turned back to Bones who was still staring at the sign intently.

"I can't determine if it's his," she mumbled to herself as she reached a hand towards the sign. This time Booth grabbed her arm, swinging her towards him.

"Don't touch the body Bones," he hissed, glancing towards the group of nervous party-goers. She turned back towards the sign, reading it again.

"We have to play," she said, more to herself than the man gripping her elbow.

"Absolutely not," he said with an alarmed look, "We are not playing with this murderer, this sicko."

She looked back at him, blue eyes shining with determination.

"We _have_ to Booth, for them," she motioned to the patrons still huddled in a mass by the far windows. Booth looked from the crowd and back to his partner before pulling her through a doorway to the hall.

"Bones, I can't believe I'm saying this, but be rational," Booth was practically shouting at his partner, her face remaining passive, though her crossed arms suggested otherwise, "We can't indulge in a wild goose chase! If we just keep everyone here-"

"We risk their lives. Every single one," she cut in.

"No, if we keep everyone together, we keep them safe and under watch. I'll call for some local back up and we'll get everyone out. We keep them together, and we _won't_ indulge in this twisted game. We do, people will get hurt. I can't have you running around like a game of _Clue_, it's too dangerous. We do this and people die"

"Overlooking your blatant disregard for the fact that I can take care of myself, I can beat him Booth. You know I can. Just trust me, we'll beat him," she stepped closer and placed her hand on his arm, "We'll solve this, and keep anyone else from getting hurt. We're the best." She gave him an imploring smile and saw his resolve weakening.

"Okay," he finally said, "But you still don't get a gun."

She simply smirked, "In this outfit, where would I keep it?"

They walked back in together, a pleasant smirk adorning Booth's face, and watched as the crowd became more restless.

"Agent Booth, what is going on," the same portly man demanded to murmurs of agreement behind him.

"Calm down everyone," he replied with a placating gesture, "Doctor Brennan and I intend to solve this case and keep everyone here safe."

No sooner than the last word was out of his mouth, they heard choking sounds from the midst of the crowd. A small circle opened up with terrified sounds as a woman dropped to the ground, her crystal glass shattering around her. Booth and Brennan rushed over, but she determined it was too late. Booth muttered expletives under his breath, turning to the guests to try to gain some room.

"Poison," Bones said after standing up and leaning in to whisper. She didn't want to cause more panic to ripple through the group. Booth heaved a sigh then spotted the woman's fan by her left hand. He picked up the object and flipped it over, silently reading the characters inked into the fabric.

_Safe you say? I should think not._

_The people here are casting lots._

_Which one is next? Who could it be?_

_I guess we'll have to wait and See. _

_Unless our dear detective friends_

_can beat me to their untimely ends._

Bones read the inscription twice, mulling it over before leaning back down to examine the evidence by the still warm body. Booth meanwhile tried to calm the terrified guests down.

"Please, everyone, we can't have you leave."

"Well, we certainly can't stay," a voice from the crowd exclaimed.

"How will you keep us safe," another yelled over the other angry utterances.

"I'm leaving and that's final," the portly man said, leading his date, and other guests, towards the stairs.

"Look, you can't leave," Booth finally yelled over the group.

"And why the hell not," the man asked, turning a rather impressive shade of crimson.

"Because someone here murdered these people," Booth said, motioning to Gregory Sanders and the most recent victim," there's one more upstairs and if you want to stop this, help solve this case and get justice for your friends, you have to stay."

Brennan was quite impressed with his convincing speech and watched as people started coming back down the stairs towards the middle of the ballroom, avoiding both crime scenes. She turned back to the glass shard in her hand.

"What have you got for me Bones," Booth asked once he jogged over to her, "Please tell me you've got _something_."

"I think so," she replied, holding the crystal up for him to look at.

"See this shard, it's from the base of the glass, it's clear, transparent. This one on the other hand," she said, replacing one shard for another, "has a faint residue. That's how the poison was administered. I don't know what kind yet, but it was in a powdered form that coated the glass. I'll need Hogins to analyze this back at the lab."

"I'll call some more agents, cops, anyone, and then we'll get right on that," he replied as he pulled his phone out of his pocket.

Brennan went back to looking at the glass, but froze when she heard a "God _Damnit"_ behind her.

"What," she asked cautiously, not turning from the glass in her palm.

"No signal," he replied, voice monotone.

That made her turn around.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------

Predictions anyone? Where's our host of the evening? Ooh I'm having so much fun with this one! Read the clues again and see if you can figure out our next location before Booth and Bones! More ASAP!


	5. to see

Hey everyone, thanks for such nice reviews! I'm glad you are enjoying the story so far! Don't worry, there's many more twists on the way!

--------------------------------------------------------------------

"What do you mean, no signal," she asked, turning fully as he showed her the 'no service' sign on his phone's screen.

"David told me that he had his own tower, that it always worked." She trailed off as Booth's face filled with a matching realization.

"Damn it," he repeated, hand clenching dangerously, "How could we have missed that?"

"We don't know it's him," she argued, partly out of habit.

"Who else knows this place well enough to murder three people in the span of an hour and not be seen," he countered. Booth started formulating a plan now that he had a reasonable suspect.

"What about motive? Means? Even opportunity can't be proven—he was in the ball room the whole night."

"And now he's the only one missing from the party. I'd say that's reasonable suspicion," Booth shot back. Brennan knew they wouldn't get anywhere on this track and switched gears.

"I need to examine the rest of the bodies and see if I can gather any more information from them."

Booth understood this rapid change in thought and let the previous subject drop, agreeing, "I'll look at the clues and see if I can figure out what's next. We need to be ready for it the best that we can."

-----------------------------------------------------------------------

They worked quietly in a seamless tandem for the next twenty minutes. Booth gathered information from the anxious patrons while Bones worked examining the poisoning victim as well as Gregory Sanders.

"Booth," she called, breaking his attention the two 'poems' in front of him, "Has anyone touched the bodies?" She was currently kneeled in front of Sanders, examining the wound on his neck.

"No, nobody has wanted to _touch_ them," he replied while he walked over, adding, "Well, you know, except for you of course."

She sent him an eye roll over her shoulder before turning back to the body.

"This hair caught in his," she gave a slight grunt as she pulled the head up with a wet sucking noise, "neck, begs to differ." Booth, who cringed slightly at the sight, tried to ignore the retching behind him.

"Could it, uh, be his hair," he asked, unable to look away from the head she currently held by the neck.

"Not at all, Gregory Sanders' hair is grey, this hair is black." She set the head on the chair next to her, leaning over the rest of the body to examine the neck.

"Bones! Do you mind? Not everyone here sees disembodied heads every day," Booth hissed, turning to block the view of the head from the rest of the group.

"Don't be silly, Booth," she said, never breaking her concentration, "we have the body right here."

Before Booth could even snort in appreciation, he heard a familiar clicking of heels across the polished wood floor. An exuberant "Darling!" confirmed his suspicions. He felt Bones stiffen next to him.

"How are you both doing," Marilynn probed as she came upon the pair.

"Just fine, Marilynn," Booth replied stiffly, "Though we do need space to examine the remains."

"Oh I understand," she said, brushing off his concern, "I don't want to get in the way of the real Kathy and Andy." She giggled and Booth questioned her sobriety.

"But maybe you can help us," Booth said, an idea catching him. Bones started to protest but he cut her off, continuing, "We need someone who knows everyone, someone who can keep everybody talking."

"Oh that's me," the publicist said excitedly, clapping her hands together with joy.

"Great! Than what I need you to do is go mingle with the other guests and then when I give you the signal, come over and tell us what you found out. Can you do that," Booth tried to infuse as much excitement into his voice as he could. It worked because she quickly agreed and then disappeared into the crowd with her 'mission'.

"I don't understand it," Brennan muttered to herself while she scrutinized the wound track.

Booth snorted loudly, "Yea, I'll never get that woman either."

"No, what I don't get is that Gregory Sanders appears to have been dead when his head was removed. Despite the lack of blood flow, there still would have been quite a bit of blood lost when it was severed. I don't understand how the killer was able to stem the flow of blood until later as well as conceal a knife from a crowded room."

"Unless," Booth prompted her, knowing there was still more rotating on the cogs in her brain.

"Unless knife wasn't a knife at all," she motioned him closer, pointing to a spot near where his left ear would normally be located.

"There is something foreign here, but I can't determine what. I need Hogins for this," frustration colored her tone at not having the resources she usually did.

"Well, we don't," Booth replied honestly, "It's just you and I. But Bones, we can solve this. We may not have everything, but we have a damn good start."

"Okay," she conceded, "I need to see the first body, see if there's anything there."

"What do we do about the other two," Booth asked, not sure if they could trust them in the room full of nervous people.

Standing up and stretching her back, Brennan said, "The security guards are our best bet. They are silent, strong and know what needs to be done."

"You realize you just described a good suspect for murder, right," Booth said seriously.

"Yes, but it isn't them," she replied evenly, "The guards have very little to no hair. Their heads are generally shaved. They couldn't have left the hair on Gregory Sanders." She motioned one guard in black over. He was a burly man with large, inset eyes and an even larger mouth which was in a perpetual straight line.

"We need you and your men to watch these bodies. There is a third upstairs and we want no one to be within their immediate vicinity, do you understand?" Brennan laid out her parameters before the man could speak. The man only raised his eyebrow slightly at this forward woman.

"Yes ma'am" he drawled quietly with a curt nod. Brennan bowed her head slightly as well, acknowledging his assistance.

"Thank you, we'll be sure to let you know anything else relevant to you and your people," she said before purposefully walking out of the room, Booth trailing quickly after her.

---------------------------------------------------------------------

When they reached the room, Bones immediately went to the body, conducting a more thorough examination than her first. Booth sat in the desk chair, alternately watching her and reading the clues.

"Bones, what do you think of when you hear the word 'see'," he asked after about ten minutes of silence.

"Ocean, cove, Mediterranean, the dig I did in Greece two summers ago where—"

Booth cut her off, a slightly exasperated look on his face, "I mean see as in s-e-e, see."

"Oh," she amended, feeling slightly embarrassed, "well, I think of vision, watching, to witness, observe."

For some reason, that word struck Booth. He concentrated on it, rolling it over in his head as he looked over the verses from the two other victims.

"I've got it," they both declared at the same time, though Bones' declaration was laced with a more melancholy tone.

"You first," Booth said, ever the gentleman as he came closer to her and the victim.

"After examining the wounds, I have to say, though we'd need help from Cam to be entirely certain, but it is reasonable to say that Marguerite De Lacue was not killed in a fit of anger. After she was paralyzed from her neck injury, she was placed on the floor where she suffered fourteen stab wounds, inflicted by some sort of large blade."

"We already knew that Bones, how does that help?"

She looked up at him from her spot by the victim, "Thirteen of the fourteen wounds were shallow, penetrating about an inch and a half at most. They would have caused bleeding, but mostly pain. The final blow was to her heart, between the second and third ribs. The killer tortured her Booth."

Her partner ran a hand over his face, realizing this was much bigger than either had imagined.

"What did you find out," she asked, regarding him in full empirical mode.

"Well, I looked at the clues and I noticed that the word "see" was the only word capitalized that shouldn't have been. I think I have the next location," he said, trying to pull some hope from the dregs of his spirits.

"Great, where," she asked, jumping to her feet immediately, albeit unsteadily in her current footwear.

"The observatory."

------------------------------------------------------------------------

Curious? Leave me a review with what you liked or didn't or any suggestions you have and I'll send you a little sneak peek into the story! Happy reading!

Ps, you don't actually have to review if you don't want to, but it's fun for me! I'll update in the next day or two!


	6. Heavenly Bodies

Hey everyone! I'm sorry about the delay in posting. My computer was having issues and it had to be completely revamped. Thank goodness for portable hard drives!

Thanks again for the reviews, I always appreciate feedback! A special thanks to Jasperthepig who found some grammatical issues for me to correct. Here's chapter 6!

------------------------------------------------------------------------

Once they found directions to the observatory ("Of course the rich guy has one," Booth thought), they headed off quickly down the halls towards the south wing of the house.

"How many rooms does one guy need," Booth asked after they had been winding through the mansion for at least five minutes.

"The house was in his family for years," Bones absently answered, observing the tapestries hanging throughout the current hallway they sped through.

"But a private observatory, I mean come on," he scoffed then continued, "Oh and _wings_. Why does a house need _wings_ anyways? I have two bedrooms, a bathroom and a living room and I'm just fine."

"You also live above a liquor store," his partner pointed out.

"Well, yea, but," he tried, argument dying on his lips as Brennan stopped suddenly with a huff of aggravation. She bent down and fumbled by her feet, finally throwing the silver stilettos by an end table to the right. She sighed with relief and Booth just looked at her with a raised eyebrow.

"Well, I can't very well run after a murderer in those things," she said simply and then continued down the hallway. Booth chuckled to himself and followed the woman strutting ahead.

They continued walking for a few more minutes before Booth gripped Bones' wrist to stop her. He motioned for her to stand behind him and be quiet before they proceeded. His only answer was a look of disbelief and arms crossed in irritation. After a short staring contest she heaved an annoyed sigh and let him pass in front of her. They crept close to the wall in silence, listening for any hint of the murderer in the hallways preceding the Observatory.

"Booth," Bones whispered, repeating his name when he failed to acknowledge her.

"What, Bones?" He hissed, not taking his eyes off of the door to their destination fifty feet in front of him.

"I think I figured out how he decapitated Sanders," she whispered back.

"How?" he asked, still concentrating on the entrance now forty feet ahead. His head whipped around though, when Bones' only reply was a squeak of surprise before he heard a door slam shut and lock. Every curse word he learned in the Rangers rapidly flowed through his head.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Brennan paused a moment, letting her eyes adjust to the dim lighting in the room. She spotted a figure across the empty space, silently regarding her.

"Amitri," she finally said, realization dawning.

"I only have a minute and a half or so before your partner breaks down the door," he said, crossing the room earnestly. He stopped just out of Brennan's range as he watched her become more on guard.

"What do you want?" she asked, her eyes following every nervous movement of the man now pacing in front of her.

"Look," he said, finally turning to face her, "I'm not going to hurt you, I came to warn you. You're playing a dangerous game. This man you are going against, he's, well, he's crazy. I met him once when I was in prison before." Amitri trailed off, observing the door that shook violently as it took the brunt of the weight from the Agent trying to slam his way through it.

"I don't have time," he said, speeding up his voice, his actions becoming more agitated again, "but just know that this won't end well, for anyone, unless you can solve this murder before his big finale. Good luck Doctor Brennan, I sincerely hope to see you again."

Bones turned to the sound of splintering wood as her partner came barreling through the doorway, his eyes scanning wildly for the threat to his partner's well being.

"What happened? Where'd he go?" Booth asked with his fists raised for a fight.

"It was Amitri, and he's gone," she replied, still staring at the spot where she had last seen the con man they had captured two months prior for a job gone bad. Booth scanned the room again, but after not seeing anyone else, dropped his arms back to his side with a somewhat disappointed look.

The pair left the room, continuing to the observatory. The space was considerably cooler than the halls of the manor and a quick glance up confirmed the reason. The roof had been opened up to reveal an unhindered view of the night sky. While Bones rambled on about the hydraulics, sound system and the two powerful telescopes that occupied the room, Booth was content craning his neck upward at the view. The night was clear except for a few clouds drifting across the full autumn moon. Once the wind had ferried the clouds away, the light from the distant planet shone down upon the room, bathing everything in a silvery glow.

Booth finally dropped his head when his partner's hand came to rest on his forearm, grasping it to draw his attention to the base of the second telescope. He deflated slightly as he recognized the forms of two bodies in the darkened corner. The pair made their way silently to where the corpses rested. A woman and man, empty eyes observing the heavens with hands laced together as they lay on the floor. Booth felt his partner's hand slip into his as they shared a look of defeat. A glint from the moon's delicate glow revealed a little foil star, the next gruesome couplet imprinted on its silver surface.

_Two people for the price of one, _

_This game just starts to get more fun. _

_Their romance was grand, their eyes just 'met'_

_But this ending reeks of Juliet._

_Go back to the Beginning but don't pass go._

_I hope you've catalogued what you know._

_If you haven't figured it out by now, I really don't know when_

_Just remember you're up to B-R-E-N and N_

"Any ideas?" Booth finally asked, the silence starting to wear on him. Bones let her hand slip from his as she leaned down to examine the couple.

"Blunt force trauma to the back of the female's head. Same to the forehead of the male victim." She revealed, "I believe they were about to engage in a sexual encounter when they were ambushed by our killer."

"So what does them getting it on do to help us?" he asked, looking down at the star once again.

Brennan furrowed her brow at his expression, "Well, it means that this murder was likely not as methodical as the others. This seems more of a crime of opportunity than a preconceived felony," she replied, gently searching the rest of the two bodies for injuries.

"But if the psycho didn't plan this murder, how the hell were they able to make a clue for us to follow here as well the one we discovered?"

Brennan touched the woman's skin gently, "They are cool to the touch, though that could be the open environment as well, but they must have been dead before the ballroom victims. Without proper equipment though, I can't correctly identify time of death."

"That's okay Bones, you keep working, I'll try to figure this one out," he said motioning with the star. The pair worked in a heavy silence, the weight of urgency pressing down upon them.

"Identities: Kelly Jenson and Mark Greenburg," Bones broke the silence as she handed Booth the ID's she had found on the victims.

"Anything else?" he asked, face contorted in concentration.

"Not that I can get at this stage," she replied, standing up next to him. She peeked over his shoulder at the clue, trying to ascertain the cryptic meaning.

"Does beginning refer to the ballroom, or the room with Ms. Delacue's body?" Bones asked quietly.

"I don't know," Booth ground out in frustration, desperately thinking back over the night.

"What about 'Juliet'?" she started again, "Is that a clue or just a proper noun?" Booth answered the same way as before, becoming angrier at the sick game they were currently caught in.

"Let's go to the study, find out what we can from there," Booth suggested after a calming breath.

Brennan agreed and they wound their way back through the mansion, hurrying to try to prevent what now seemed inevitable. Inevitabilities aside, neither was quite prepared as they stepped into the study's doorway.

"David," Brennan called out weakly, her eyes revealing her shock before she rushed into the room.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

What's happened to our host for the night? Murderer or simple victim? Let me know what you think! I'll update ASAP!


	7. finding the light

Hey guys! Sorry about the shortness of the last chapter! This one is going to be quite a bit longer, but know that the story isn't over yet! Here's chapter 7!

----------------------------------------------------------------------

Brennan ran over to the limp form splayed across the desk. While she searched for a pulse, Booth observed his partner. Her elegant dress had lost its luster in their escapades across the mansion and her hair had come undone, loose curls wilting out of the graceful updo from the party. Her head dropped in momentary defeat after finding no signs of life. Booth watched as she controlled herself, compartmentalizing like only she knew how, before starting a thorough examination on the newest of victim. The tension rolled off of her in waves. The agent knew he wasn't doing much better, the ugly fire of vengeance whispering to him from the darker recesses of his mind. He shook himself out of his thoughts and walked over to where his partner stood, examining David's hands.

He refrained from speaking, reading her mixture of emotions with practiced ease. Instead he silently took stock of the area but found nothing out of the ordinary. There was no sign, fan or star pointing the way to their next grisly scene, simply a body lying across the desk, head facing his lover. Brennan continued her inspection, sighing deeply.

"How'd he do it?" Booth asked gently after her sign of resignation.

"Gunshot wound to the back," she supplied in her detached tone. She reached for David's shoulders, carefully tilting him back in the chair. There was no hole from the bullet's exit, instead just a small sheet of paper pinned to his tuxedo front, an "A" written in black ink. Booth reached for the paper carefully and flipped it over, expecting the next step in their deadly goose chase. He was instead greeted with the paper's blank back, dots of ink bleeding through.

"Any chance this isn't related to the psycho we're after?" Booth asked rhetorically, watching as his partner's simple movements became more strained.

"What about the bullet, we can pull ballistics, right?" he asked, switching topics.

"No chance," she replied quietly as she turned the body back to its original position, "You can see from the enlargement of the hole here, the killer dug his fingers into wound track to extract the bullet. I can't even get you a size because he compromised the tissue."

"Look Bones, I know this is harder for you than the others," Booth started as he stepped towards her.

"It's just another victim, another step closer to stopping this," she replied without looking at him.

"It's not Bones, you knew this victim personally. You feel like it's your fault, like if he hadn't invited you, this wouldn't have happened, and you're mad as hell that someone is doing this and we aren't fast enough to catch them." She paused over the body as he pinpointed the roiling emotions within her.

"But we are, and we will," he continued, stepping close enough to lay a gentle hand on her back. She finally stood up and turned into the hug he offered. After a few calming breaths (_she really shouldn't enjoy his cologne so much_ she thought to herself) they broke apart with a "Let's get 'em Bones!" and a somewhat watery laugh from the anthropologist.

Going faster than they had been, the pair worked diligently to try to decode the next location from the lack of clue presented to them.

"Booth, let me see that star," she said, a sudden idea striking her. He handed over the foil for her to examine, cocking his head in question.

"_Two for the price of one_," she read out, "What if that doesn't just pertain to the victims in the observatory?"

"But it's '_two _people_ for the price of one_', doesn't that just mean, you know, the people?" he pointed out.

"Well, I guess it could, but we had two possible locations. We picked this one by chance, ending up with a dead body," her eyes flicked to David then back to Booth's brown one which were getting a glimmer of understanding in them.

"We could have also gone to the ballroom," he finished, mind furiously following this new trail, "But there wouldn't have been a victim,"

"Because we needed to find David first," she supplied, a grin of anticipation taking over.

"But how do we know?" Booth asked, not entirely sure they could expect to find something in the ballroom when the dozens of flighty guests had not sounded the alarm. Bones looked back over the clue in her hands.

"Juliet. It's a clue, not just a proper noun," she said, looking at Booth in excitement at figuring out this next step. He let out an inarticulate "huh?" as his brow furrowed in question. She sighed and rolled her eyes slightly, though the smile stayed in place.

"In Act one, Scene five of _Romeo and Juliet_, Romeo Juliet and meet at the Capulet's party. Their _masquerade _party." A smile of realization lit up Booth's face as he jumped up, grabbing his partner's hand.

"What are we waiting for?" he asked, and she could only laugh in reply.

They sped through the hallways, back to the ballroom, ready for whatever they would find. They weren't prepared however, to see the guests quietly sitting about in the center of the ballroom, no disturbances apparent.

"You there," Booth commanded, motioning over the security guard they had left in charge, "Has anything happened here since we left?"

"Not a thing," his gravelly voice confirmed, "Though you'd think the FBI would let us know what was goin' on in our own place."

Booth stepped closer, his eyes narrowing in challenge, "Give me one reason I shouldn't arrest you right here for all these murders."

"Because I would've gotten you guys out of the way first, 'stead of puttin' you on the trail," he replied, meeting Booth's challenging stance.

Brennan smirked slightly, a lecture about alpha-males running through her mind before she jumped in to calm the situation.

"Obviously your team has done an excellent job," she stepped towards the glowering men, "and we are very grateful, but we have been lead back to this location. We need to examine the room as there is another potential crime in the making." The men took a final glance at each other before stepping back to a more comfortable distance.

"What can we do to help ma'am?" the security guard asked.

"Continue to seal off the perimeter while we get to work," Booth jumped in. The guard's tight lips turned south, but he set off after a nod from Brennan. Booth was about to remark to his partner about the incident but a blur of red coming towards him stopped all teasing comments. Marilynn Johnson came to a sudden, albeit giggly, stop in front of the agent, wobbling as he tried to steady her.

"I'm _so_ glad I found you two," she drunkenly gushed.

"Uh, we are too Marilynn, but we have work to do," Booth tried while attempting to get out of her rather strong grasp.

"But I haven't played with you all night," she pouted, sending Booth's eyebrows to his gelled hairline. She suddenly brightened, "I have the info you wanted too!"

Brennan smirk had turned into a full Cheshire grin as the publicist pulled Booth closer still, whispering rather loudly, "The info on the guests, the who's who and doing who, ya know?"

"And, uh, what did you find out," he asked, shooting Bones a slightly panicked look.

"Well, I talked to people all night, I mean _all_ night. And I found out stuff, _lossa _stuff!" her dialogue was punctuated with giggles and hiccups making her speech funnier than it should have been.

"Well, ya know that girl who was poisoned, Sophia, she had lots of fun, if ya know what I mean," she continued with a sloppy wink, "David for one, though he felt _so_ guilty about it. He loved that little frenchie like nothin' else and she was just after him for money. But who isn't, right? Oh! And weird coincidence, that French girl, Marg-something, she was engaged to this other guy, this Marcus guy who was such a sweet soul but he went to prison. He told me the whole story and about how this mean old judge, Sandy, Sanderson, something like that, had _no_ mercy and threw his ass in jail and that's when Marg-something broke it off and broke his heart."

The prickling of realization hit Booth and he caught his partner's eye knowing she felt it too.

"Marilynn, when did you talk to this Marcus guy?" He asked, feeling like they were on the verge of a breakthrough.

Marilynn waved her hand with indifference, "Like an hour ago while you two were missing." She suddenly grinned broadly, "Say, what _were_ you doing all that time?"

"Look Marilynn, someone is calling you over," Bones jumped in, trying to derail that train of thought from Marilynn's drunken mind. She gave a hiccup of delight and scampered off, faster than Booth thought a woman that inebriated should be able to. Once she was gone, the partners turned towards each other, identical thoughts taking over.

"That's why Sophia was poisoned, to make a point," Booth started out, grin growing on his face as they put the pieces together.

"And Sanders had put Marcus in jail, which caused his breakup with Marguerite, which is why she was killed," Bones continued, her own expression mirroring her partner.

"But what about the others? And how do we stop him?" Booth asked.

"We'll find out," Bones replied, thinking about his second question. Her face abruptly lit up, blue eyes dancing with an answer.

"It's Sanders, how he killed him," she started quickly as the thoughts raced through her head.

"What," Booth asked, knowing it all made sense to her genius IQ.

"Sanders was decapitated, and no one saw it coming. I found some sort of clay in his neck earlier and it didn't make sense, now it does. They used wire," she revealed to a still confused Booth, "the same kind that artists use to cut blocks of clay. It would keep his head in place but still be quiet and efficient."

"How does that help us find Marcus?" Booth asked, knowing that the answer was in there somewhere.

"He would have needed to get in and out of the room swiftly and silently to avoid detection and he couldn't take normal routes."

"So he used a hidden door," Booth finished.

"Yes, and if we find that door, we find him," she concluded, satisfaction clear on her face. They darted to Sanders' body, watching the paneling behind the row of chairs for any anomalies. Finding none, Booth was struck with an idea. Jogging to the grand staircase, he ascended part way and addressed the weary guests below him.

"Everyone, I need your attention please. I'm sorry that your evening has been ruined, but if you bear with us, this will all be over shortly. Dr. Brennan and I do need your help though. Is anyone here in the mechanical or repair businesses?" He was met with blank stares. "We need a medium range Black light. Odd request I know," he said to the mystified audience, "but it could make or break this case. Do any of you have anything like that?"

Murmurs of confusion and grumbles of irritation floated up to him. Finally one person stood up, signaling Booth over.

"My name is Samuel Jones," he said once the Agent had jogged over, "I am on the Anti-Counterfeiting task force at the treasury. I came from work straight here and was lucky enough to have stashed one of our smaller black light pens we use for detection in my pocket by mistake. It should work for you." Booth breathed out his thanks as he took the pen and returned to his partner.

"What was that about?" she questioned when he was close enough.

"Blood," he said, clicking the pen at her playfully before shining it on the paneling.

"You know, we really should have yellow glasses," she pointed out after a minute of tracing the panel edges with the light, "It prevents macular degeneration."

"In this instance Bones, I think I'll take the risk," he replied, following the seams in the wood. A few minutes later, Booth stopped the light on a fluorescent streak on a panel three down from Judge Sanders.

Bones' eyes danced along with her smile as they met those of her partner. They shared their silly grins of victory for a moment longer before standing up from their identical crouched positions. Booth started to move the chairs back for easier access and told the crowd to stand back.

Brennan in the mean time found the skillfully hidden handle to open the concealed door and gripped it, giving a hard tug while Booth shouted instructions to the people behind them. She turned to alert her partner when she felt a hard yank on her left arm and she was pulled into the dark room behind the ballroom. She heard the door slam shut and the first wave of panic hit her when she also heard a deadbolt slide into place from her position on the floor.

Booth's head snapped from the crowd when, for the second time that night, he heard his partner's surprised gasp followed by a locking door. Slamming his shoulder into the panel repeatedly, he found it was of no use after its first meeting with the door.

"What is it with you people and locking doors," he demanded furiously.

From the inside, Brennan stilled on the floor, trying to find her bearings in the pitch black of the room. Light slowly rose from the sconces on the wall, filling the lush room with a warm glow.

"This was his other music room," a smooth voice detailed from behind her.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Sorry about another cliff hanger! The next chapter will be up later today or tomorrow and we'll finally meet that infamous Marcus (and find out just _what_ is up with felons locking Bones in dark rooms with them!) so stay tuned!


	8. full disclosure

She slowly turned, finding an average looking man, dark hair falling around his forgettable face. Mirthless green eyes trained on her, his captive, and he observed as she unfolded herself from the center of the small room.

"Marcus I presume," she said evenly, pushing her panic down to concentrate. As she regarded the man in front of her, she heard the pounding of her partner from the outside.

"Marcus Welby, at your service," he said with a theatrical bow, pausing at the bottom to look up at her with a twisted grin, "Temperance."

"Why am I here?" she coldly questioned, getting straight to the point.

"Let me tell you a story first," he said, straightening from his exaggerated stance and starting to lazily pace in a circle around her, "of a boy who loved a girl. He adored her, was completely, blissfully in love with this girl. She returned this love, or so it seemed." He punctuated this last part with a sudden stop, his cold eyes zeroing in on hers. She kept her expression schooled, her own eyes following his demented movements.

"One day the boy got into some trouble. It wasn't entirely his fault and he could have gotten off, but a certain judge who decided to have a _really_ bad day and take it out on this boy gave him five years in prison. The girl promised to remain true to him, and he believed her, writing letters every day to his beloved. She wrote back but eventually her responses died off and her final letter told of her lack of love, lack of _empathy_ for the boy who had promised his heart to her." Brennan watched him become more animated with his movements as his agitation grew.

"When he got out, he went to find this girl who was now engaged to some low life rich boy who bought her out. He didn't even have the decency to be faithful to her!" He was near shouting by the end, his hands clenching in what could only be described as pure fury.

"David and Marguerite," Bones clarified and Marcus straightened up as if just remembering she was there.

"Yes. Unfortunate circumstances lead to unfortunate results," he replied, his tone light and conversational again.

"And the others," She prompted, trying to keep him talking. She had started edging herself away from the center of the room towards the wall that housed a multitude of instruments.

He waved them off with his hand saying, "Collateral damage. Judge Sanders, he cut off my life, it's only fair I did the same."

"Sophia?" Bones asked, watching as he continued his languid pacing while she took another step back.

"She was poison to the world," he replied with a shrug of the shoulders.

"The couple in the observatory?"

"Ah yes, my first kill," he continued in his light tone, "They were simply in the wrong place at the wrong time. Still, why should they get to love while the rest of the world burns?"

"But Marguerite, she was your focus," Bones prodded him on. She was now within four feet of the wall.

The smile that had been playing on Marcus' lips grew wider and his eyes colder as he replied, "No, no, that's you,"

--------------------------------------------------------------------------

Booth struggled to keep in control as he slammed his body into the door. How the hell Bones got herself locked in a room with a raging psychopath _twice_ in the same night was beyond him. He kept pulling on the handle and trying to bust through the door, but nothing was helping. A hand on his shoulder made him whip his head around.

"Let me help," the man from the treasury said, rolling up the sleeves of his shirt.

"Thank you Mr.,"

"Jones, Samuel Jones," he replied, crouching down to rush at the door.

"I'll help too," the security guard's gruff voice came from behind as he too knelt by the other men in front of the panel.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Why me, what do I have to do with it?" she asked, cursing herself internally as her voice took on a slight quiver. Two feet to go. Marcus' eyes flicked to the doorway at the sound of a particularly hard thrust from Booth on the other side.

"How could I resist besting the _famous_ Doctor Brennan?"

Bones bit back a gasp of relief when her finger tips grazed the wall behind her. She looked towards the door, waiting for Booth to burst through as he had before.

"huh-uh," Marcus chided as he followed her gaze, "the room is sound proof. David really went all out. And don't think I haven't been watching you back towards that wall. But really, what did you plan to do anyways? You have a mandolin, and well, I came prepared." He pulled a rather ornate dagger from under his jacket and Brennan immediately dated it to the early sixteen hundreds as her panic rushed at her full force.

"You see," he continued, playing with the blade in his hands, "this is my grand finale. You are the "N" and there really wasn't a way for you to stop that." His jade eyes caught her widened blue as he cocked his head in mock consideration. "My only real regret is the mess I'll have to leave for your dear partner."

----------------------------------------------------------------------

"The door ain't gonna budge," the security guard grunted after another hard hit against the door. Samuel and the security guard stood back for a moment, watching Booth frantic movements towards the door. They had made a slight crack in the wood but the paneling held strong. At this point Samuel was more concerned with the state of the Agent in front of him than the panel.

"What are you waiting for," he panted, hitting the door once again, "We have to get her out!"

"The door isn't breaking Agent Booth," Samuel pointed out.

"It has to, I have to, I have to save her," he said, breathing erratic in his panicked state. He hit the door with his fist in anger before turning on the two men behind him.

His face was red with exertion and rage and he took a breath, ready to yell at the men for giving up until he caught a gleam under the security guard's jacket. He lunged towards the larger man, grasping for the guard's holster on his side. He successfully yanked the pistol away, cocked it and aimed for the door.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Bones fumbled blindly behind her as she watched Welby start to slowly advance towards her. Finding nothing of use, she softened her knees, ready to launch a counter attack when he tried to strike. Marcus watched her, calculating with a deadly smirk on his face. He was making measured half circles around her, closing the distance between them with each rotation. They both paused when a small metallic ping resonated from outside of the door. Taking a chance, Bones rushed Welby, trying to knock the weapon away as Booth came barreling into the room.

Turning to this newest intrusion, Marcus focused his sharp, predatory eyes on the fiery ones of the agent running towards him. His periphery caught movement from where Brennan had been and he saw the agent's eyes grow wide at the knife aimed towards his partner. Understanding dawned on the murderer, and in one quick decision he turned his body towards the flash of blue that tackled him. He heard the sharp pop of the pistol in the agent's hand before pain blossomed in his back and the world faded away.

Booth rushed over to Bones where she lay on top of the lifeless Marcus Welby. She placed her palms on the floor, shakily pushing herself up while Booth placed his hands on her sides, helping her rise to her feet. When she turned to face him her face paled and her eyes widened in shock.

"Booth," she managed weakly before her knees buckled. Her partner caught her dead weight, sinking to the floor while her blood quickly soaked through the fabric between them.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

I know, I know, you all hate cliff-hangers, but I had to stop here! The next chapter is already partially done, so expect an update tomorrow! Let me know what you think!

Silver. Wings.


	9. Survivor's Guilt

Survivor's guilt. That's what they called it. A mental condition that occurs when a person perceives himself to have done wrong by surviving a traumatic event. Or at least that's how she would probably define it. He just knew it as the all consuming grief he felt eating away at him as he sat by his partner's prone body, trying to stop the life from leaking out of her. He pleaded for her to hang in there, pressed the torn remnants of his tuxedo to her torso, watched as she gaped like a fish with each ragged breath. Yet at the back of his mind, the survivor's guilt persisted. If he had been _that_ much quicker, been _one step_ closer, it could be him instead. And he was angry as hell.

He bellowed to the others to get help, find a first aid kit, a satellite phone, anything. They all stood watching in a pale, shocked stupor. Finally the nameless security guard blinked out of his suspended state, running out of the room to try to be of use.

He gripped her hand tightly, her own hold weak in turn. Her eyes stayed locked on his while he tried to stem the steady flow from her abdomen. Welby had deliberately turned the knife on her and Booth felt anger wash over him, though his terror remained prominent. He felt Samuel press another dress jacket into his hand, replacing Booth's jacket on Bones' stomach. When they lifted the first jacket, sodden with blood, Booth's stomach churned at the ragged hole in her side.

The security guard returned, saying something about finding an override and calling the authorities. Minutes of agony ate away at Booth as he watched his partner, the woman he loved, struggle to remain conscious. The blood loss was quickly catching up and he felt helpless to stop it.

The paramedics finally rushed in, lead by another guest and made quick work of Brennan's injuries. Taking a helicopter to and from the remote estate, they hastily moved her to a stretcher, attaching oxygen and pads to stop the hemorrhaging.

Bones stayed on the verge of unconsciousness throughout the whole ordeal, whispering bone names to herself as Booth held on to her and the paramedics worked to save her. She knew, rather than felt, them move her to the stretcher and the ballroom became just twinkling lights as darkness ebbed into her vision. She concentrated on Booth, his hand around hers, his mouth forming words that she couldn't comprehend any more. Tipping into the abyss seemed so easy and she stopped fighting the shadows as hard as she had been. She felt strangely heated as the time passed, though the cool night air stung her skin as the paramedics rushed her to the waiting helicopter. Booth's face came into her vision, his eyes showing unadulterated panic. His mouth told her to "stay with me Bones" but her vision swam and the enveloping darkness just felt so nice.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

They let him ride in the helicopter with them, radioing ahead for an O.R. and transfusions. She was unconscious now but Booth couldn't let go of her hand. As one medic described her injuries for the radioman, his guilt battled with his dread. He held onto her limp form until she disappeared behind theswinging doors. It was then his soul buckled under the weight of his guilt.

The others came after a while, Angela in tears, the others barely restraining similar emotions. He simply sat in the hard plastic chair with his head in his hands. A nurse had taken pity on him and given the tattered man a set of scrubs to change into, though he felt like he'd never be able to wash away the burning trails where her blood had been. Sometime later, for time seemed to stretch on infinitely, Cam brought him coffee but he couldn't touch it. He could do nothing but be swallowed by his own immeasurable grief.

The doctor came out and Angela jumped up to receive the news. His heart constricted painfully at the potential outcome. He watched Angela nod along with the doctor before letting out a strangled sound of joy and hugging Hogins tightly with relief. Booth locked eyes with the surgeon and with one simple nod from the other man, felt the burden on his heart slowly start to ease away.

-------------------------------------------------------------------

Not quite a cliffhanger like last time, but don't worry, the story is far from over! Since this chapter is so short, I'm posting chapter 10 with it at the same time, so let me know how you feel about them!


	10. weightless

Hospital

She seemed to be floating. No, that wasn't right, not that humans could float of course she reminded herself. She just didn't feel, heavy, weighted down, like she usually did. Opening her eyes she saw the lab. She was standing on the platform, but it was empty. A voice wafted through the silence to her.

_Bren, sweetie, please don't die. You're my best friend. If you die, who is going to correct me on the fact that only male peacocks have color? _Her watery laugh broke slightly. _Please Bren, I, I don't know what I'd do. _

Angela's teary voice trailed off and the eerie silence ensued. She heard Hogins' voice next.

_Hey Dr. B, I don't know if anyone told you, but the stuff in the glass, you were right about that. Anyways, I just want to tell you that all these years have been great. But, ya know, please don't cop out on us. I don't think the team would recover. Angela wouldn't. Did I tell you we're thinking of giving it another shot? So she needs you to get better so that you can be the Maid of Honor at our next wedding. Please, Dr. B._

She cocked her head, trying to determine where the voices were coming from. They seemed to be everywhere at once and why did they sound so heartbroken? She looked down and saw she was still in her dress from the party. The night's events came rushing back to her. The bodies, the clues, David, Marcus Welby, the room. _That's why_. She took a seat on the table in front of her to stop her spinning head. Cam's voice drifted in.

_Look, Brennan, I know we didn't get off to the best start, but our team needs you. We, I, don't want another funeral. Please. _

She tried to process what everyone was saying. Were her injuries that serious? She knew that she probably had some arterial damage, and her stomach, but it couldn't be that bad, could it? Her medical knowledge told her the answer. But certainly it couldn't be bad enough that she would _die_. She still had things to do, things to say. Panic rose in her throat, though she wasn't sure if even that was real anymore.

_Bones, please. _

The voice she had been waiting for broke through. It was all he said, but his pain reverberated around the empty lab every time he repeated it. She felt a weight on her right hand, though she was still the lone soul in this limbo of sorts. Someone was holding her hand again. And all she could think was, '_this is nice'_.

She felt the twinges of pain first. The image of the lab around her started to dissolve and she found herself lying in a hospital gown, pain ripping through her gut. The airy weightlessness had been replaced with feeling too heavy for her own body. Her hand flexed unconsciously and her partner's head shot up, brought out of his exhausted daze by the slight movement. He looked up at her face which was now turned towards him. It took him a moment to register that her eyes were open before he was suddenly grinning like a mad man, letting out a shout of joy before enveloping her shoulders in a crushing hug. He was careful of her injuries and his own (you can't just slam into doors without any pain he discovered) as he babbled in her ear about everything that had happened since she had passed out.

"Booth," she tried stopping his excited rambling to no avail.

"Bones, we were so worried, you, you wouldn't wake up, and then the doctors said that it would take time, but we didn't know how long and-." She tried again to interrupt him.

"You pulled through, the doctors, they were amazed. I knew you would, but, god Bones, it's just so good to have you back!" With that, he hugged her again, laughter bubbling up in his throat.

"Booth," she said stronger, finally catching his attention. His laughter died when he heard thinly veiled fear in her voice.

"Bones, what is it," he asked, leaning back to look into her panic-stricken eyes.

"I can't feel my legs."

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Hands up for everyone who thought a love declaration was happening! Sorry, love isn't that easy, but we'll get there, I promise! In the meantime, let me know what you think!


	11. What I've always been

Hey everyone, sorry for the update delay! My life has been in upheaval the last couple of days. I know this is another short chapter, but I'm double posting again, and another chapter should be on the way shortly! Enjoy!

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Temperance Brennan had always been good at compartmentalizing. She'd learned from a young age to take something and file it away in her mind to examine later. This skill had helped her through every difficult situation she'd encountered, allowing her to look at something rationally. It wasn't until she was in the dark emptiness of her bedroom that she would open up the file she had stored and allow herself to look at the thought and emotions that she had hidden. She'd always been good at compartmentalizing—until now.

Now, all she could do was stare numbly at Dr. Norbury as he explained her condition. She, who normally could section off her thoughts almost immediately, now sat trying to push her fear and panic into its own little box, but she couldn't. Little blips of the solemn doctor's speech broke through her panicked thoughts.

When Booth had raced out to find the doctor after her declaration an hour earlier, he'd come back with an entire troop of doctors, nurses and other medical personnel in tow and she felt her fear start to slowly ebb. The doctor asked her about the lack of feeling ("Logically I know my legs are there, but it's like I can't move them, I can't feel the muscles in them," she explained.), checked her stats and tried a few physical tests, only to bring in her surgeon and a neurologist. They each tried their own versions of the first doctor's procedures before stepping out into the hall to confer.

She stared out the window after them, keeping a tight lid on her emotions. She felt a hand slide back into hers and looked down at the man who was regarding the doctors with the same intensity she was. He turned to look at her, his own fears coloring his eyes. Nodding his head slightly, he squeezed their joint hands and turned back to the window. The doctors filed back in, standing at the end of her bed.

"It may be permanent," Dr. Norbury said soberly

Yes, Temperance Brennan had always been good at compartmentalizing, but this she couldn't handle.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Seeley Booth had always been a "heart" person. While he was an intelligent person, his heart and emotions were always the driving factors in his decisions. When he was a kid and covering for Jared, it was because he cared and as an adult, he was in constant consult of his emotions. He'd always been a heart person—until now.

Now, as the doctor told them that the dagger had not only caused her extensive internal damaged, but most likely caused her paralysis, he found himself pushing his emotion down for the moment, trying to look at the situation from a logical point of view. While normally he would be at his wit's end with worry, he had watched as Bones shut herself down and knew that for once he had to be the rational one. The fear that ruled him at her announcement roiled under the surface, but for now he had to try to understand what little logic the doctor provided.

"We will take another set of x-rays to look at any specific damage," Dr. Norbury explained, "Our neurologist thinks that it's likely the dagger went in, hitting between the two vertebrae, and nicking the nerves within. We may also perform a lumbar puncture depending on what the x-rays tell us. Once we have more information, we'll know where and how to proceed."

Booth glanced at Bones. Her face still held the wide-eyed, blank look it had for the past five minutes the doctor had been explaining her condition. He wasn't sure if she was even absorbing the information.

"You said that there is a chance it's only temporary, how do we know?" he asked, pushing the glimmer of hope under with his fear.

"There is a chance," the doctor said hesitantly, "but I don't want to get your hopes up. We won't know any specifics until the results of the tests are back, but if there is the chance that her regular feeling and movements could return with extensive physical therapy."

Brennan's blank gaze suddenly focused on the doctor, "I'd like to do the x-rays now please. I want to know my options as soon as possible."

The doctor, while momentarily confused by her stoicism, complied, signaling to some nurses to wheel her out of the room and to radiology. Booth gave her hand one more squeeze for luck before she left and regarded the now empty room with cynicism.

Yes, Seeley Booth had always been a heart person, but this he couldn't handle.


	12. Life is Pain, Highness

Booth waited impatiently while Bones underwent her x-rays. He called Angela, letting her know everything that happened. He answered her battery of questions and assured her that she didn't need to come down right away, just to tell the others—he wasn't sure Bones could handle company at this point. She shakily promised and demanded that he call her the second anything changed. He assured her that he would and they said their goodbyes.

Booth hung his head after the call, his tightly bottled emotions threatening to uncork. He stayed in this position, trying to block out the more dismal options of Bones' condition until he heard the squeak of wheels over the linoleum. He watched the nurses wheel Brennan into the room then followed them out to the hall.

"When can we expect the results?" he asked the older woman in front of him.

"Radiology is a little backed up," she said, cutting him off as he started to protest, "but your girlfriend has been moved to the top of the pile. Give it an hour or two. We'll let you know as soon as we do."

"She's my partner," he corrected almost automatically, "but I want to make sure that she is getting the finest treatment this hospital has to offer, you got it?"

"Of course," she replied, smirking at the naive man in front of her, "we'll make sure your, um, _partner_ gets the best."

"Okay," he breathed out, giving her a weak smile. He glanced at Bones, lying quietly in her bed, and made a quick decision.

"I'm going down to the gift shop for one second, would you," he said, trailing off as he motioned to his partner.

"Go ahead," he nurse said with a smile, watching as he jogged down the hallway to the elevators. She shook her head and walked into the hospital room.

"Ms. Brennan," she questioned the woman staring at the ceiling.

"It's Doctor," the woman replied quietly.

"Well then Doctor Brennan," the nurse amended quickly, "my name is Shirley and I'm going to be taking care of you."

"Where's Booth," Dr. Brennan asked, her gaze never leaving the plaster above her.

"Your partner left for a quick sec, but he'll be back," Shirley replied with her light southern accent, settling into the chair next to the bed.

The minutes passed in silence, Shirley sensing that the woman wouldn't be talking any time soon. Brennan gave up staring at the ceiling and had closed her eyes, lost in the turmoil of her thoughts. The nurse watched her charge, the woman's depression almost palpable. A single tear floated from beneath Dr. Brennan's lashes and she took a shuddering breath to control her emotions. Shirley bit her lip, holding back on helping the woman—she could tell it wouldn't be well received. She looked up to find a sheepish looking Agent Booth in the doorway and rose from her chair. She left the room, watching the agent take her position by the bed—the same position he had religiously kept for the two days Dr. Brennan was in the coma—as well as the woman's hand. Shirley softly smiled at the sight and walked down the hall to check on her other patients.

Booth gave Bones a slight smile when she turned her head to look at him. He was surprised to see the glistening of tears in her blue eyes as she regarded him, her face void of expression.

"Hey," he said softly.

"Don't," she interrupted, her voice giving a slight break, "just, don't." He nodded, pulling something out of the bag on the floor.

"Let's watch a movie," he said. She shrugged her shoulders noncommittally and he put the movie in.

"_That day, she was amazed to discover that when he was saying "As you wish", what he meant was, "I love you." And even more amazing was the day she realized she truly loved him back."_

Bones turned to look at Booth, "What movie is this again?"

"_The Princess Bride_, Bones," he said from his spot leaning his arm on her bed, "I still can't believe you hadn't seen it."

"Well, regardless, the movie is wrong," she stated, sounding more like herself.

"How can it be wrong?" he asked incredulously, pausing the movie in preparation of their debate.

"If Westley is saying 'As you wish', he can't be saying 'I love you'," she replied, crossing her arms definitively.

"People don't always say exactly what they mean, Bones," Booth said quietly, trying to do just that.

She stared at him for a moment, her eyes narrowing in consideration, "Okay," she said with a slight nod before turning back to look at the screen.

"Okay," Booth repeated with a small smile, pressing play.

He alternately watched her and the screen for the next few minutes, studying her as she took in the distraction he bought from a display case in the gift shop. He felt slightly heartened by their bickering, a moment where she was back to herself. He looked at the clock, waiting for the hours to crawl by and they could get the results.

_"Life is pain, Highness. Anyone who says differently is selling something."_

He heard her sharp intake at the line.

"Do you believe that?" she asked quietly, still watching Buttercup and the man in black squabble on screen.

"Do I believe what?" He asked.

"Life is pain," she clarified, "because I do. Right now, I really do."

Booth saw the vulnerability on her face and his resolve to be logical broke with the tears welling in her eyes.

"Oh Bones," he started, coming up onto the bed to wrap his arms around her. Before he could finish, the nurse he had talked to earlier walked in, the doctor behind her.

"Dr. Norbury," Bones said, sitting up and wiping her eyes. Booth sat at attention as well, battling the hope rising in his chest once again.

"Dr. Brennan, Agent Booth, I have the results," he said as Shirley placed the x-rays on the portable light she'd wheeled next to the bed.

"As you can see here," the doctor said, pointing to a spot on the x-ray of her lower abdomen, "the knife entered Dr. Brennan's right side, lodging into the spinal column between L1 and L2. The damage, while not as extensive as we feared, is still serious."

"How serious are we talking?" Booth asked as he watched Bones study the x-rays in front of her, the scientist in her making its first appearance.

"We still don't know if the paralysis is permanent or temporary," Dr. Norbury explained and Booth felt Bones grip the hand lying next to hers, "but, there have been cases where the legs responded after physical therapy. It's my opinion that starting therapy as soon as your other wounds have healed would be our best course of action."

Brennan reached for the x-rays but her hand recoiled and she winced at the pain in her side.

"You have time Dr. Brennan," the doctor said gently as she went back to observing the slides rather than touching.

"Is there any other way we can discover the extent of the damage," she asked in her smooth, detached tone.

"I did mention a lumbar puncture, but I believe that it is unnecessary pain to learn a limited amount," he said, watching her narrow her eyes and frown at the news.

"May I see you outside Dr. Norbury," Booth requested as he slid off of the bed and walked to the door. Bones protested, spouting off bits of her "Alpha-male" lecture, but finally settled for glowering at the men through the window with her arms crossed.

"She's a pistol," the doctor remarked with a small laugh once they were in the hall.

"You have no idea," Booth replied with his own smirk and an eye roll. He gave a small sigh and became serious.

"What are her chances, really, of walking again?"

The doctor sobered quickly, "Like I said before, there have been cases where patient's legs responded to therapy after a couple of months. The lack of feeling worries us, but there really isn't much that we can learn without more intensive, unnecessary stress on her body. With regular stimulation, the feeling could return as well as her ability to move them. Feeling could return within days, weeks or the more likely, months, we just don't know."

Booth nodded, looking through the window at their topic. When he caught her eye, she huffed in irritation, but then lifted an eyebrow in question.

"If you can keep her motivated with that thought, keep her going, it could mean the difference between being confined to a wheelchair for life and walking again."

"Thank you doctor," he said, shaking the man's hand and giving him a rueful smile.

"I'll check in on you both tomorrow," the doctor said before motioning to Shirley and walking away.

Booth went back into the room, hesitating before taking a seat back on the bed next to his petulant partner. Her arms were still folded and one sculpted eyebrow was raised in both question and irritation. He thought it was good when she didn't immediately shove him off of the cot, but her hard stare continued.

"Well," she demanded after he said nothing. He relayed most of the conversation to her (with her interjecting stubbornly) before she finally let her arms drop back to her sides and her forehead smooth, though traces of her irritation remained.

She looked back up at the forgotten movie, frozen at the argument of the princess and pirate. Settling back on the pillows, Booth grabbed the remote and pressed play before doing the same.

As the final credit rolled across the screen, Booth looked over at his sleeping partner. The worry she had tried to hide earlier was evident on her face, but she seemed somehow peaceful at the same time. He checked his watch—two a.m.—and decided coffee was in order. Booth carefully extracted his arm from where it had been wedged underneath Bones and got up slowly, trying not to wake her. Making his way to the door, he heard his partner stir and paused at the door. He watched her eyes flutter open and smiled softly.

"Booth," she said quietly, her voice weaker than he'd ever heard, "please don't leave."

She awkwardly shifted to the other side of her small bed and he resumed his post by her side, kissing her on her forehead as she drifted off again.

"As you wish, Bones. As you wish."

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

I apologize if any of this seemed out of character—I figured that she would probably not be quite herself if she got news that she could be paralyzed for life.

Obviously I love _The Princess Bride _and I couldn't resist adding it in somewhere! Sorry if it made too sappy of an ending! lol The line just works perfectly for non-couples! :-)

As always, let me know what you think! I love hearing your thoughts or when someone finds the obscure references (good catch dawnsfire!).

I'll update much sooner this time, so be on the lookout for chapter 13!


	13. I'm fine Really

Morning stretched quietly into the room, fingers of light sliding over the two forms in the hospital bed. They lay in a comfortable embrace, foreheads touching and arms around one another. Head nurse Shirley Meadows smiled as she paused by the window to watch the touching scene. She'd been a nurse for fifteen years and was still amazed at the easy energy that seemed to just flow between the pair. She smiled again as she watched the man slowly awaken, stopping to brush his hand across his "partner's" cheek. Shaking her head, Shirley walked the rest of the way to her station, the hopeless romantic in her beaming.

Ever the believer in heaven, Seeley Booth couldn't let go of the serenity that filled his soul as he awoke next to his partner. The soft morning light drifted through the curtain, sending rays dancing across her hair and highlighting her stunning features. His hand drifted across her face on its own accord but the contented sigh it elicited from her lips made sure he didn't mind.

His pleasure was cut short as the shrill ringing of his cell phone cut across the room. Holding his breath a moment, he watching as Bones' face contorted slightly in irritation. He pulled himself quietly from the bed and answered his phone in a hushed tone as he walked into the hallway. Brennan's expression smoothed out, pain medication allowing sleep. Once he'd filled Angela in and she promised to bring everyone by later that afternoon he said goodbye and let out the breath he hadn't been aware was bottled up. Leaning his head against the cool glass, reality of Bones' situation sunk back in, along with his guilt. It was his fault she was taken into the room, his fault that she was stabbed by Welby, his fault she'd never walk again. He lifted his head at the soft clearing of a throat. The nurse from the day before stood to his left, coffee in hand.

"You looked like you needed this," she said as he took the proffered drink. He thanked her and went back to staring at his sleeping partner through the window. The two stood in silence for a few minutes, each sipping at their respective cups.

"She's lucky to have you," Shirley finally stated.

Booth scoffed scornfully in response, "yea, she's really lucky to have an agent that can't even protect her as a partner."

Taking his bitterness in stride, Shirley tried again, "You saved her though, didn't you?"

He gave a shrug, still avoiding her gaze and the silence ensued once more. Booth jumped back to reality as Bones started to awaken and he turned back to his companion.

"Go on," she said simply, reaching for his empty cup. He returned to the bedside and she smiled once more before resuming her rounds.

"Hey Bones," Booth said quietly, watching his partner slowly blink to wakefulness.

"Booth?" she questioned before holding her head, "I had the weirdest dream." She looked around the room, her face falling quickly.

"Oh."

"Hey, it's going to be okay," Booth started, taking her hand on top of the white blanket.

"Yea," she replied unconvincingly before removing her hand from his comforting grasp. He felt a pang of hurt at her rejection but tried to brush it off. She stared at her lap for a moment, visibly controlling her thoughts before she looked back up at him.

"How do you feel this morning?" he asked her cautiously, worried about her depression.

"Like yesterday, but with more pain meds," she replied after considering the question.

"Well, everyone is coming by later. They've been worried like crazy," he said, trying to work their way out of the awkward cloud that hung over the conversation. He watched her tense at his statement.

"What do they know?" she asked, her voice almost fearful. This change surprised him and he answered slowly,

"Well, Angela knows almost everything. I'm assuming she's told the others. If you don't want them to come by…" He trailed off slightly.

"No, it's fine" She cut him off, looking the opposite, "I'm fine. I should see them."

He watched her try to convince herself for a moment longer.

"What's for breakfast?" she asked suddenly, hoping for a change in topic.

"I'll find out," he replied, picking up on her cue.

The cloud continued to hang idly.

-------------------------------------------------------------------

A few hours later found Angela Montenegro outside of her best friend's hospital room, the rest of the "Squint Squad" behind her. Hogins carried the flowers, Cam the cards and Sweets the balloons he insisted she needed. They all paused for a moment before Angela knocked on the doorframe and led them inside. Her heart ached for the small form in the bed though the large smile on her face begged to differ.

"Hey sweetie!" she offered up enthusiastically, hugging Brennan while the others gave similar greetings. Everyone took their turn saying hello and the artist stood back, watching Booth hovering in the background. She wove her way over to him.

"Hey G-man, what's the story?" she asked, giving him her "don't give me crap" look.

"Look at her," he supplied helplessly. Angela felt pity for the tall agent who looked utterly defeated at the moment. She turned to watch her best friend interacting with the others. Bren's face was edgy and stressed, though she did make a valiant effort to hide it.

"She doesn't know what to do or how to handle this," he said as he watched Brennan in the bed. Angela, though initially surprised someone else could pick up on Bren's nuances as quickly as she did, picked up on something else too.

"And you don't either," she finished, watching his eyes widen fractionally.

"It's my fault," he said, still watching his partner, "but this I can't fix."

"You already have," Angela said to a snort of disbelief from her companion.

"Really," she pressed on, "you being here mean a hell of a lot more to her than she's ever going to admit. She doesn't like to look weak, you know that. What she hates more is self pity. So you've got to stop wallowing and just help her hold it together." Booth nodded in consideration, letting out a deep sigh. They watched their friend a moment longer before Angela stepped towards the rest of the group.

"Alright, Booth is going down to the cafeteria to get pudding for everyone," she announced to a confused look from everyone in the room, "Hogins, Sweets, you go with him."

Cam sensed the artist's distraction. "I'll go watch over them," she said, getting up from her chair and dragging the others and their protests with her. Angela took a seat next to Brennan's bed.

"Spill Sweetie."

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The boys made their way to the cafeteria, Cam in the lead. She took the long way, distracting Hogins and trying to keep a semi-sullen Booth afloat. When she paused by the gift shop, claiming they needed magazines for their friend, Sweets hung back by Booth who stood transfixed by the movie display.

"How are you doing Agent Booth," the young psychologist softly treaded.

"I'm not the one in the bed Sweets," Booth snapped back, still fingering a copy of _The Princess Bride_.

"I've talked to some of the nurses," Sweets started again while the agent just frowned.

"Apparently you two are in here quite a bit," he continued the one-sided conversation, "and each time, the other one is crazed until they know what's going on with their 'Partner'."

"So?" Booth finally asked, prodding the doctor on after a few beats of silence. He knew there was more to come.

"Dr. Brennan's just lucky to have someone that loves her so much, that's all," Sweets said, punctuating it with another shrug of his shoulders.

Booth sputtered a moment before settling on, "She's my partner Sweets, you know that."

"So?" he parroted Booth's earlier question, glad it wasn't a denial.

"So, of course I'm worried when she gets hurt."

"Ah," the psychologist said, bemused expression still in place, "so that's why when she wouldn't wake up you threatened to sue the hospital unless she got the best doctors and care." Booth dipped his head in embarrassment of his outburst from the first night.

"And why you didn't leave her side for the two days she was out," Sweets went on.

"She would do—did—the same thing for me," Booth tried to defend.

"And why this entire time, you haven't been away from her for more than five minutes or even looked away from her for more than one," Sweets finished softly, watching the older man finally hang his head in defeat.

"Yes," he heard the agent whisper into his chest, admitting to far more than the simple answer alluded.

"At least now you know," he supplied and Booth looked back up, his face almost comically "little boy". Sweets gave him a smile, "so what are you going to do?"

Booth's eyes widened with panic and he fumbled again for words.

"About therapy," he clarified, holding back a laugh at the agent's terrified expression. Booth sighed with relief and turned back to the display case, setting the movie back down.

"I don't know," he revealed, running a hand through his hair, "it's going to be really hard for her. She doesn't like to rely on anyone. Having to be in a chair, with a therapist, it's going to be tough."

"She relies on you," the therapist pointed out

A smile tugged at Booth's lips and he turned back to the impish man next to him, "yea, I guess so."

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"What do you mean Ange?" Brennan chose ignorance.

"I mean, how are you?" Angela pressed.

"I'm fine," Brennan replied, finding her lap far more interesting.

"Bull," the artist challenged.

"Angela," Brennan finally looked at her friend, pleading seeping into her voice.

"You're freaking out," Angela tried again to an amused, "Clearly I'm not" from her friend.

"Not visibly, but I know you Sweetie," she said, grasping Brennan's hands in hers, "What's going on with you?"

Brennan looked down again, the tears, pain and disappointment rushing back to her.

"I'm fine," she tried again, her voice far weaker than the first time.

"Clearly you're not," Angela said gently, using her friend's words to convince her.

"I'm scared Angela," she whispered finally, measured control cracking. When Angela came on the bed and wrapped her in a hug, Brennan's hold broke and she finally let her fear out onto her best friend's shoulder.

"We're here for you," Angela soothed after the sobbing turned into quiet hiccups, "all of us. Especially Booth."

Brennan's head came up, her tear streaked face regarding her friend with question.

"He cares about you Bren," Angela revealed yet again, "it's killing him that you're in pain." The doctor just nodded and Angela almost laughed at the similarity of the move.

"Let him in," she prodded gently. Brennan nodded again before taking a breath and looking back at her friend.

"Ange, I think I, well, I think I might,"

"I know Sweetie," Angela finished with a soft smile as her friend visibly relaxed at not quite having to admit it out loud.

Their conversation was interrupted when everyone else came back in. Brennan asked about the lab and they all talked and laughed about Fisher's latest experiment-gone-wrong until Cam reminded them that they needed to be getting back to work. She reassured them all that they would be back soon and the group took their leave.

"That reminds me; shouldn't you be getting back to work yourself?" Brennan asked Booth as he took a seat next to her.

"Nope," he replied, glad she was sounding more like her old self (though he didn't miss the slight tear tracks on her face).

"I talked to Cullen and he said I don't have to be back to work until you are. He sends his regards, and those," Booth continued, pointing at a large bouquet Brennan hadn't noticed before.

"How, um, thoughtful," Bones said after examining them.

"Yep," Booth agreed, "It looks like you'll have to put up with me for a bit longer."

"Sounds good to me," she replied after a pause as she caught his eye, her first real smile adorning her face.

His answering grin was more brilliant than she'd ever seen.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------

Sorry if these chapters have been a bit angsty again! Don't worry, it'll get better, we just have to hit the bottom before we get back up! :-) Let me know what you think and if you have any thoughts or suggestions!

.


	14. Young at heart

That afternoon found the partners in the room laughing hysterically. Booth could tell that something had shifted while Angela and Bones were alone, but he wasn't going to question it. He finally felt like he got his partner back. There were still the slightest traces of sadness about her, but he saw her making an effort and he couldn't help but do the same. A knock brought them back to reality as Dr. Norbury walked in.

"I have to say, I'm pleased to see you in such good spirits," he told the pair after they greeted him. They turned to look at each other and remnants of their laughing fit made another appearance, "antifungal" and "Christmas" breaking through the giggles of the pair.

"What can we do for you Dr. Norbury," Brennan asked as she tried to become serious. Her partner did the same, but with less success, snickers breaking through his attempt at a stony face.

"I just wanted to check on you," the doctor explained kindly, their good moods rubbing off on the older man, "as well as introduce you to the therapist you will be working with."

He motioned to the door and a woman in a white lab coat walked in. She her brown hair was shoulder-length tied back in a professional half knot. Her hazel eyes danced warmly behind her rectangular glasses as she smiled at the couple in front of her.

"Dr. Brennan, Agent Booth meet Dr. Tara Young." The woman walked forward to shake hands with Booth and Brennan.

"Dr. Young is one of the best in the field," Dr. Norbury elaborated with a smile.

"Where did you go to school?" Bones questioned the woman standing before her while Dr. Norbury laughed and Booth hissed an embarrassed, "Bones!"

"Boston University for Pre-Med, Harvard for Med school and three years at Columbia for specialty work," the therapist replied without missing a beat.

"What types of specialties?" Brennan fired back, not letting her interest show.

"Orthopedic, Neurological and Cardiovascular Rehabilitation," Dr. Young answered with a slight smirk. Dr. Norbury had told her that this patient could be feisty and she was intrigued.

Brennan and the doctor held eye contact before Brennan finally nodded to herself. Bones turned to Booth who looked pleased at the exchange.

"I approve," she said with one more sharp nod, "Dr. Young has the credentials and will be an excellent facilitator for my therapy."

The therapist felt pleased at this and looked back at Dr. Norbury.

"You weren't kidding about her being thorough," she said with a tinkling laugh. The doctor just laughed and smiled before excusing himself to make his rounds. Dr. Young turned back to Brennan and Booth, introducing herself further and getting to know her newest patient ("Please, Temperance, call me Tara," she requested. "Please, call me Dr. Brennan," Bones replied in the same tone, her eyes flashing. Booth just snorted back his laughter.).

"I'd like to get started as soon as possible, if you don't mind Dr. Brennan," The therapist said after a few minutes.

"Yes, I think that would be wise, though with my other injuries," she trailed off, motioning to her swollen right side. Booth visibly winced, feeling guilty all over again.

"We'll start simple," Dr. Young replied, pulling the covers off of Bones' legs, "We just want to keep your muscles stimulated for now."

Feeling uncomfortable in her short hospital gown, Brennan tugged on the edges before looking at her partner.

"Perhaps Booth could wait outside?" she directed the question at the woman by her feet, though her eyes remained pleading towards her partner.

"Well, actually," Tara started.

"It's ok," Booth interrupted as he rose from his chair, "I'll just go make some calls."

He gave Bones an encouraging smile before he left. Both women watched him leave before Tara cleared her throat for her patient's attention.

"Let's begin," she said as she reached for Brennan's right foot and started massaging.

When Booth returned from his wanderings thirty minutes later, he was surprised to see Dr. Young holding Bones' left leg in the air before gently bringing it back down to the bed again. She carefully maneuvered Bones' legs on the bed before bringing the blanket back up to Bones' waist.

"Hey Booth," Bones said wearily as Dr. Young finished tucking the blankets back around her.

"How'd it go?" he asked, smiling as her eyes drooped slightly.

"Exhausting," she sighed as Tara said "Excellent." The therapist gave a small chuckle at this.

"Well, even though you can't feel it, we worked those legs of yours," she explained.

"To prevent muscular atrophy, we had to expend energy. A lot of energy," Bones clarified almost to herself.

"Well, I'll be back tomorrow around the same time and we'll keep working on it," the therapist said with a smile before picking up her notes and saying goodbye.

Booth talked to Bones for a few minutes, watching as the scientist struggled to remain awake. She finally drifted off and he settled in his chair to read the book he'd had Charlie bring to him days before. They were still in this position when a soft knock on the door revealed a smiling Angela. Motioning for quiet, Booth got up and went to the hall with the artist.

"I brought her some things from her apartment, is she ok?" Angela asked once they were out of the room.

"She just did her first round with the physical therapist and it wore her out," he explained.

"You don't look so good yourself," she pointed out, "When's the last time you slept in a bed, a real bed?"

Booth felt his cheeks redden at the thought of how he had awakened that morning.

"That's what I thought," Angela said with a satisfied nod. Booth tried to protest, saying that he didn't mind, but she wouldn't hear any of it.

"Now, you are going to get that FBI butt of yours home, shower, change, take a nap, whatever. I'll take care of her tonight, and I don't want to see you back here until tomorrow when you are bright eyed and can keep your back from keeling over after four days in a hospital chair."

Booth considered protesting some more, but the artist looked deadly serious and he knew better than to mess with this woman on a mission. He nodded sullenly and made her promise to call him right away if anything, _anything_, changed, whatever the time. She swore she would and he looked one last time at his partner before dragging himself resentfully down the hallway and towards home. Angela shook her head and gave a soft laugh before taking the spot next to the bed.

"_Red Tape, White Bones,"_ the title read as she picked up the worn, dog-eared copy from the chair.

"_This ought to be good,"_ she thought, turning to page one.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

When he woke up the next morning, Booth had to admit that Angela's idea was a good one, though that didn't stop him from worrying all night long. It was still early, _6:09_ his clock read, but he couldn't wait to get back to the hospital. He showered, changed and went to the car. He had one more stop to make.

An hour later he made his way through the hospital halls as he balanced the paper bags in his hands precariously.

"What are you doing?" he whispered as he walked into the room and deposited the bags on the chair next to the door.

Bones glanced at him from her laptop, before going back to her typing. She hit a few more keys then closed the program she was in and set the computer aside.

"Good morning Booth. You're here early," she pointed out with a sweet smile. Booth took a moment to look at her, unduly gorgeous even at seven thirty in the morning, and he couldn't help but give a laugh and shake his head in disbelief. Of course _she _would be working two days after being in a coma.

"I stopped by the diner," he said, bringing the bags over and setting them on the bed.

"A vegetarian omelet for you," he handed a Styrofoam box from the bag to her, "ham and eggs for Angela," he set a second box on the bed after glancing at the still sleeping artist in the chair, "and pancakes with sausage for me," he rubbed his hands together in anticipation as he pulled out the third carton. Bones for her part was speechless as she watched him unveil an entire breakfast buffet by her feet.

"Oh! I almost forgot the coffee," he said and jumped up to grab the carrier still by the door. He handed Bones hers and she wasn't surprised that he had made it just how she liked it. Angela started to stir as she smelt the heady aroma near her head.

The three made quick work of their meals and talked until Angela had to leave to change and go to work. She promised to bring the rest of the group by that night with dinner and hurried from the room.

"So what did you two do last night after she kicked me out?" Booth asked as he cleaned up the remnants of their breakfast.

Brennan gave an airy laugh, "She had gone to my house and picked up a few things, and when I woke up she had convinced the nurses to help give me a shower. Let me tell you, I've never loved hygiene more than that moment. After that she got me into my sweats," he noticed her new, more comfortable attire, "and tried to style my hair," she punctuated this with an eye roll, "but settled for doing my nails as we watched some movie she had brought over. It was very weird."

"The night or the movie?" He asked with a grin, sitting back down on the bed by her feet.

"The movie. It was about a girl who wishes to become an adult after some traumatizing adolescent event. I was quite disappointed that it didn't have a proper analysis of the space-time continuum."

Booth snickered at her portrayal of a movie Tessa had dragged him to years ago. Before he could comment his phone buzzed in his pocket. His heart sank a little as he saw "Cullen" light up the screen but he answered it. After a few minutes' discussion he closed the phone with a sheepish look as he saw Bones cross her arms over her chest, an eyebrow peaked in question. She didn't say anything, just stared at him with the penetrating gaze he usually loved (when it was directed at other people).

"So, I need to square with you," he finally caved and she continued to train her calculated gaze on him.

"When I told you that Cullen had given me time off until you came back, it was more that I, uh, took time off until you're better."

Her eyes widened in both shock and confusion while her arms unwound themselves to her side.

"I told them to only call me if it was really important, life or death," he continued quickly, not sure if her reaction was a good thing.

"Booth, you can't afford to do that," she was still stuck on the first part of his confession, "how did you? I mean, what made you? Just, why Booth?" The normally brilliant scientist couldn't seem to comprehend his selfless gesture.

"Well, you know, I just wanted to be there for you." He rubbed the back of his neck in a nervous gesture and looked up at her through his lashes. The cocksure agent was feeling much more reticent now that his actions had come to light.

Brennan's face flushed at his admission and she wasn't sure how to respond. Normally she'd ask Booth what to do in a situation she was unsure of, but the man in front of her looked almost as lost as she felt. He gave her a slight grin, testing her reaction, and she could hear Angela telling her to "let him in".

"Are you mad Bones?" he tried, the slightly worried expression never leaving his face. She watched him for a moment longer before letting out a laughing sigh.

"No, Booth, I'm not mad," she said and watched the relief wash over him, "but you have to go back to work!"

"Bones," he whined. They debated good naturedly for the next several minutes until Brennan finally won the argument, telling him that he had to go to work and home to sleep, but he could come visit her any other time. Booth knew she wouldn't concede her stance and finally gave in with a grin.

"Shake on it," Bones said warningly as she offered out her hand.

When his hand grasped hers, neither could mistake the electricity that passed between them in that simple movement.

______________________________________________________________

Sorry guys, I know this one was kind of a filler chapter again, but the next few will get the action going again for our favorite duo! Let me know if you have any ideas, suggestions, etc. for me, I love hearing from you! I hope you are enjoying the story so far, thanks for sticking with me! Happy reading!

.


	15. Feel This

Wake up at six, get ready, at the hospital by seven thirty, head to work at eight forty-five, bring lunch from Sid's or the diner, back to work, hospital from five thirty until Bones forced him to go home.

Booth followed their new routine for the next week and a half, glad his partner had made him go back to work, but counting down the hours until he could see her again. They watched movies, talked about life, debated everything—life was back to as normal as it could get.

Brennan for her part was itching to get out of the sterile room once and for all, despite the walks (or rolls as the case may be) that Booth had conned the nurses into letting them take in the evenings. When Dr. Norbury came in and announced that she could go home, as long as she came back for her regular therapy sessions, the smile didn't leave her face.

Booth drove to her home, helping her navigate the narrow hallways as they entered the building. The ride up the elevator had been in silence, though she could feel excitement flowing off of her partner (regardless of how irrational that was). They wheeled down the hall and she unlocked the door, pushing herself through the opening.

"Surprise!" Her head shot up as she was assaulted with the sounds of the animated crowd that now filled her apartment. Gaping momentarily in shock, she turned to the man behind her, who simply shrugged.

"We're glad you're home," he grinned before wheeling her farther into the room.

Brennan spent the next two hours receiving hugs from her friends and coworkers and enjoying the pleasant company that surrounded her. While Booth had been giving her room, she felt his eyes on her throughout the party, a fact that both thrilled and terrified her. She stored it away as Director Cullen approached the small group gathered around her by the sofa.

The party started winding down and after the last guest had left, she surveyed the room as Booth made his way to the kitchen with some dishes. She rolled herself after him, watching from the doorway as he loaded the dishwasher and then drew water for the rather impressive stack of dishes still on the counter. Pushing herself farther into the room, she positioned herself to his right, grabbing the towel on the counter to dry.

"I've got this Bones," he said with a smile, "Go relax, you deserve it."

"I want to help," she replied determinedly. Holding her gaze a moment longer, he nodded and turned back to the bubbles covering his arms. He understood that she _needed _to help, to be of use. They worked in a seamless tandem for the next twenty minutes before they finally retired to the living room. He lifted her from the chair and onto the couch before flipping on the TV he had convinced her to buy a few months back. They talked for a little while before lapsing into a comfortable silence, punctuated by the sounds of the show in the background.

"You don't have to stay Booth," Bones finally said a few minutes later.

"I want to," he said, the same determined look on his face. Dipping her head, she let her hair hide the blush that had grown on her cheeks.

"You're wrong you know," Booth stated after a few beats, grabbing her foot and starting to massage it gently. She looked back up at him with a questioning gaze.

"I do have to stay."

She started to protest but he cut her off. "Doctor's orders," he said with a cheeky grin.

Frowning, she couldn't bring herself to argue as he continued his soft ministrations on her feet. She settled into the pillows by the arm rest, watching him manipulate the weak muscles in her legs. As he continued to work, moving onto her other leg, she let her head fall back against the arm rest and closed her eyes. She considered opening the box of emotion she had stored away earlier, but his close proximity made that a dangerous option. She groaned as he hit a particularly sore spot on her calf.

"Easy Booth, that one hurt," she warned, her eyes still closed. He apologized and eased his pressure. The circles across her skin stopped as each took in a breath and Brennan sat up to look at his wide-eyed expression.

"Did you just?"

"Yes," she breathed out, shocked joy overtaking her features, "I could feel my legs."

"Move 'em," he persisted after a shocked silence and they both turned to watch her limbs. The appendages sat idle on his lap as she tried to command them to move, a wiggle of the toes, anything. Her face fell though she tried to mask it. Booth looked back up at her, his eyes dancing with delight.

"You can't move them yet Bones, but it's amazing," he gushed, grabbing her hands in his own, "you can feel them!"

His enthusiasm was contagious and she found herself joining in his laughter. She let out a surprised squeak as he leapt from the couch and grabbed her around the waist. He swung her in circles around the room, laughter bubbling up between them. He finally slowed their rotations, setting her back on the sofa softly. They grinned foolishly at each other, faces remaining close and Brennan felt the same feeling from before settle around her heart. As she looked into his twinkling eyes, the terror slipped away and she felt overwhelmed by this new calm, as cliché as she knew it sounded.

"That's really great Bones," he whispered, feeling the moment between them. She waited for her fear to come rushing back at her. Logically she knew it should, it always did in these moments, but the anxiety that seemed to stop her at this point in the past stayed alarmingly silent. She bit her lip in consideration as their gazes remained steady.

Then that box of emotion, so carefully stored away flew open as he finally closed the distance between them.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Ok, ok, I know it was kind of a cliché ending, but I thought I'd finally give into a bit of BB love. Our story can start progressing again and we'll kick it up a notch. This was a shorter chapter, so expect a new one soon!

And to all who thought she was paralyzed for life—psh! I'm not that mean! Ye of little faith, keep reading, you'll be happy again soon enough :-)


	16. Ready for Pie

Angela Montenegro sat quietly on the platform with her sketch pad, watching her best friend examining the set of bones in front of her. Cam had ensured that the lab was fully equipped for Brennan's return a week ago. All of the stairs in the lab had been outfitted with a ramp and the exam tables had been equipped with hydraulic lifts to ensure that they could be set to a lower level for Brennan's new sitting position. It had been tough on Brennan, being limited to a chair, but she was coping and Angela had a sneaking suspicion that Agent Hot stuff was behind it.

Regardless of the fact that Booth spent almost all of his time with Brennan, Angela hadn't seen the man in almost a week due to a dip in crime (which she supposed was good, but in reality, quite boring on her end). In the two weeks since the welcome home party, Booth had been staying at Bren's apartment as the doctor had instructed. He'd driven Brennan to almost every appointment, taken her to her regular sessions with Dr. Young, and tried to make life easier for his partner. Despite all of this, Angela couldn't help but feel that something was off between them, she just didn't have evidence.

"Yo Bones," said agent called and Angela watched as her best friend stiffened. Oh, well there was that.

"How can I help you Booth?" Brennan asked without looking up.

"We have a case," he replied as he stopped next to the table where she worked. Bren finally glanced at him with exasperation.

"I am clearly in the middle of something and I can't very well go traipsing across some crime scene," she disagreed, motioning to her chair and then returning to her reconstruction, "Take Mr. Edison with you, I'm sure he'd enjoy the field work."

Angela saw Booth deflate before he schooled his expression, "But I need _you_."

Brennan froze momentarily. "I can't Booth," she replied, steel evident in her voice.

"Dr. Brennan, I feel that it would be best for you to assist Booth," Cam broke into the silence that had settled over the platform. Brennan looked up at her boss in shock, realizing Cam wasn't going to back down.

"Fine," she said petulantly as she tore off her gloves and wheeled herself past Booth and down the ramp in irritation. The group silently watched her retreat, not quite sure how to react.

"Fix it Seeley," Cam commanded the Agent after a moment. He gave a discouraged nod and followed his partner to the SUV.

--------------------------------------------------

The car ride was silent as they made their way to the crime scene just outside of Woodbridge, Virginia. Both felt dread at the familiar route they were forced to take, though neither mentioned it.

"Bones, look," Booth started.

"What are the details on the case," she interrupted, continuing to stare at the passing scenery.

Booth paused a moment, feeling overwhelmingly helpless as she rebuffed yet another attempt to talk about what had happened. He knew she wasn't good with emotions but he was going to burst if they didn't at least discuss it. Glancing at the woman curled in the seat next to him, he let the subject drop with a sigh. He launched into an explanation of the limited facts he'd been given and then their silence persisted. Driving on, he reflected for the millionth time over that night two weeks ago.

------------------------------------------------------------

_Then that box of emotion, so carefully stored away flew open as he finally closed the distance between them. _

_His lips met hers softly at first, a gentle conveyance of his heart. She responded almost immediately and deepened their kiss with fervor. They continued their heated exploration until air became an absolute necessity and they broke apart with heavy breaths. _

"_I love you Bones," he said, the honesty of his statement shining though his clouded eyes. _

_They stared at each other a moment longer before she pressed another impassioned kiss upon his lips. She broke it off moments later, scrambling for the wheelchair sitting next to the couch. He helped her into the seat, trying to gain her attention again. Once in the chair, she backed herself away from him, mumbling a nervous 'goodnight' before wheeling herself quickly towards her room. Booth stood surprised and helpless in the living room, finally bedding down on the couch until they could talk in the morning. _

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

When morning came, she continued to ignore what had happened between them and his attempts to talk about it. Their awkward limbo continued for the next two weeks and, despite what Cam had demanded, Booth didn't know how to fix it.

They reached the crime scene, a small building near the Potomac Mills Mall ("They have a great hockey outlet," Booth excitedly explained. Brennan just frowned and rolled ahead). The local enforcement lead them into the shop, an empty room covered in plastic and plaster dust.

"We're renovating the space," the shop's owner explained nervously. Bones rolled her way over to the remains, her wheels making tracks in the dirt powdering the floor. Booth let her work for a few minutes, questioning the owner and contractors who had discovered the body behind the wall they had been knocking down. He watched her warily as she made her initial observations, finally getting frustrated when she couldn't quite reach the body in front of her.

"Last time we had a body behind a wall, you were strung out," Booth tried humor once he made his way over to her.

"Male, mid twenties, blunt force trauma to the skull, though that could have been the result of the sledge hammer," she got straight to business, glaring at the offending item to the left of the remains.

"Anything else," Booth prompted.

"Not that I can reach," she replied hotly, "I _told_ you that you should have brought Clark with you." She gripped her wheels tightly and turned herself, rolling away at surprising speed. Gathering his wits after her outburst, Booth jogged to catch up with her as she wheeled out the door and down the walkway.

"Bones! Bones stop!" he yelled as he tried to catch the wheelchair ahead of him. She finally halted her rotations and he reached her, letting him catch his breath.

"What," she demanded, staring straight ahead as she tried to stem her temper.

"That's what I was going to ask," he replied exasperatedly. She scoffed, preparing to roll again before he stepped in front of her, crouching down to her level.

"What's going on with you, Bones," he asked gently and she turned her face away from him, feeling her resolve crack in his presence.

"Is this because of what happened two weeks ago?" he tried again.

"No," she replied unconvincingly, still not facing him.

"Bull shit," Booth said simply and she whipped her head towards him, shock at his curse evident on her face.

"Why can't you understand that I'm here for you, that I'll always be here for you?" he implored, trying to keep the frustration from seeping into his tone.

"You can't know that," she whispered, though her argument lacked its usual conviction.

"Yes, I can," he said, reaching for her hand, "I know that this has been tough on you, that you want to give up. I know that you feel great some days and like screaming the next. That's not going to change," she flinched a little at his declaration, but he pressed on, "But I also know you aren't going to give up, you won't let yourself. You wouldn't be the woman, the Bones, that I know and love if you did," her breath caught in her throat and she looked more stunned than he had anticipated, "I know all of this because I know _you_. When it gets to be too much, when you feel like giving up, like the world should swallow you up, I want you to lean on me. Let me be there for you like you have been for me."

"I can't ask you to do that," she tried weakly, still stunned from his confession.

"You aren't asking, I'm giving," he assured her, "I'm always here for you, today, tomorrow, next week, next year, forever, Bones. I'm not going anywhere."

"Booth, I can't," she started, her panic evident, "I'm not good enough for you, I'm not whole anymore."

"Bones, yes you can and yes you are. You always have been. _Never_ doubt that. I'm with you all the way," he told her, reaching for her other hand as she started to struggle in the chair.

"Booth—"

He let out a frustrated sigh. She was so fiercely independent sometimes.

"Bones, don't you get it? I love you. I'm not going anywhere because I _love_ you. I've loved you almost since the beginning, and that's nothing's going to change that, not even this," he tapped his knuckles on the aluminum of her chair, "I want to help you because I love you."

He emphasized the last three words slowly, his gaze piercing hers as he tried to get it through her sometimes obstinate brain. It wasn't how he'd envisioned telling her his deepest secret yet again. It was completely non-romantic and after an argument at a crime scene no less, but he did it anyways, he had to get his point across. He watched her brain furiously process this new development as their gazes remained locked. The last cog slipped into place and her stubborn façade finally fell.

"Booth," she tried one last time, her voice infused with hope and something he didn't dare name. He cut off any further protests with a soft kiss, praying this wasn't going to be déjà vu.

She stilled under his lips, her instincts screaming at her to run but her heart leading her in another direction. _Let him in_ Angela's voice resonated again, and she listened, finally falling into her heart's commands. Her arm snaked around his neck, bringing him closer as they surrendered to feeling. They both stopped after a few minutes' pleasure, foreheads connecting. Booth waited for her to run, gripping her other wrist tighter as he felt her start to move. She gave him a reassuring peck, bringing her arm from around his neck to above his heart. When their eyes met once more, he silently asked the question he wasn't sure he was brave enough to voice. The corners of her mouth quirked into a grin as she nodded and he smiled brilliantly before he covered her mouth with his.

They finally pulled apart again, extracting a groan from Bones.

"Do we have to stop?" she asked, chuckling at Booth's now slightly disheveled appearance.

"You, not wanting to look at a body? Wow, this really is the apocalypse," he teased.

"I just, I don't want _this_ to end," she admitted softly, biting her lip as she looked up at him from beneath her lashes.

"We have plenty of time, Bones," he said with equal reverence, "but this guy needs his justice now."

"You're right," she acquiesced as he stood up and started pushing her back towards the crime scene, "but can we go to the diner for lunch? I think I'm finally ready to try pie."

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Yes, an angsty chapter again (I'm actually a very upbeat person in real life), but more BB love! I do know how much you adore that. Let me know what you think! Another chapter asap!


	17. It's Okay You Know

Ok, so this one starts out semi-angsty again (sorry! :P) but it'll get better! Oh and it contains slight references/spoilers for the end of season 4, beginning of season 5.

--------------------------------------------------------------------

Brennan sat in the empty therapy room, waiting while Tara went to pick up another patient before doing her post-therapy massage and returning her to Booth. The large room was a combination of various medical devices and some equipment that Brennan equated to a child's playground. Today had been another miserable session in a week of full of miserable sessions even as her body fought its hardest to improve. She'd been working with the balls, bars and other tools for weeks and seemed to have been advancing just like Dr. Young had been hoping. The newfound feeling in her legs was a good sign; though the pain she felt after the sessions made her very aware how hard she was working. The hope that she had felt had been slowly dissipating throughout the week and by the end of her session today, it had all but disappeared.

She slumped a little further in her wheelchair as she fought the waves of defeat pounding against her. The first tear slipped from under her lashes and she wiped it away impatiently, though stopping the others was harder. She finally gave up her control, dropping her head in her hands and let out every bit of anger and disappointment she felt at her body for betraying her. She cried every tear she hadn't let herself since she'd woken up and every tear she'd wanted to since that first moment of realization. She felt like an utter weakling instead of the strong, vivacious woman she'd always been. Why she couldn't overcome this obstacle was beyond her.

When her sobbing subsided, she felt a hand on her shoulder. Lost in her depression, she hadn't heard the door open or the soft squeak of wheels behind her. Turning her head, she caught sight of a girl, maybe fifteen or sixteen wheeling her own chair from behind Brennan.

"Bad day," the girl stated with a small, knowing smile.

Brennan gave a dry laugh, "More like a bad week. I'm sorry about this." She wiped her eyes quickly. Crying in itself was hard for her, but in front of someone else was unbearable.

"It's fine, I understand. My name is Katie," the girl introduced herself, holding out her hand expectantly.

"It's nice to meet you Katie. Where is Dr. Young?" Brennan replied as she shook hands with the girl after wiping the last of her tears away.

Katie shrugged, waving away any worry with her hand, "She got stopped by another doctor, she'll be back soon." Brennan nodded and they lapsed into a short silence.

"It's okay you know," Katie said suddenly as she rolled herself back and forth in front of Brennan.

"What's okay?" the older woman asked.

"To have a bad day," she clarified, "I have 'em too." She motioned to her blonde head, "Cerebral hemorrhage when I was twelve, Lacrosse stick to the back of the head. They stopped it before I lost complete function, but I still lost movement and coordination in my lower body and part in my left arm."

Brennan was feeling immensely guilty for crying in front of someone who was so much worse off than she was, but this new girl wasn't quite finished yet.

"Look, you can't always have good sessions, and it bites to have made all that progress and then hit a plateau. All you want to do is scream at the unfairness and it's all that you can think about. It's like, no matter how hard you try, you just can't stay strong anymore." Brennan's eyes started to well up again as Katie hit on every feeling she'd been experiencing. Katie continued, "Tara was telling me about you, and you aren't one to give up. But trust me on this, you can cry," she dropped her voice to a conspiratorial whisper, "I won't tell," she said, adding a wink to emphasize their new bond.

Brennan gave the girl a small, wavering grin, "You're right Katie, you hit the pin on the head."

Katie's eyebrows knit in confusion, "I think you meant nail, I hit the nail on the head."

"Oh, right," she replied, cheeks coloring slightly, "You sound like Booth when I get something wrong."

"Who's Booth?" Katie asked, curious who this person was that brought a smile to her new friend's face.

"He's my, well, he's my partner," she flushed brighter. The door opened suddenly, revealing their topic of conversation.

"Bones," He exclaimed, smiling brightly as he spotted the woman in front of him.

"Hey Booth," she started, trying to hide her embarrassment as Katie visibly gawked and giggled at the agent.

"Are you and Tara finished up?"

"Everything but the massage, she got caught by another doctor," Bones brought him up to speed.

Booth bent down to her level, his voice like gravel in her ears as he slid his hands down her arms seductively, "How about we leave now and I'll treat you to that massage at home."

"Booth," she tried, her voice sounding less chiding than she had anticipated, "We aren't the only ones here."

"And who's this?" Booth asked, turning to notice their companion in the room, his charm smile in place.

"Katie, uh, Katie Morgan," the young girl said, her own face splitting into a mega-watt grin.

"Well Katie, it's great to meet you!" he said before turning back to Bones, "I'm going to go find Dr. Young to see if you're set to go and then we'll head out. The diner has two pieces of pie for the price of one today." He gave her a chaste kiss on the cheek before leaving as quickly as he had come.

"Yea, that's some partner," Katie dead-paned.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Once they got back to Brennan's apartment, Booth kept his word about a massage. When she was successfully napping on the couch next to him, he couldn't help but think about everything they'd encountered throughout their partnership. Kidnappings, gun shots, psychopaths, his tumor. They had been able to overcome it all. But this he feared, this would break her. Stroking her hair softly, he continued his thoughts. He hadn't been oblivious to the tear tracks dotting her face at the hospital and the careful control she seemed to practice whenever the topic of her paralysis came up, not that it did very often.

He liked to think that maybe he was helping her, at least a little bit. Since he had finally proven to her that he wasn't going to leave, things seemed to be going better between them personally, though they still had a long way to go. Bones sighed in her sleep and he felt his heart waver happily. He was so addicted to this woman.

Her eyes fluttered and she looked up at him with a sleepy grin. Stretching out, Bones smiled wider as he dropped his head to give her a kiss to which she happily responded. He continued caressing her hair as he dropped a trail of kisses down her neck, stopping at her racing pulse. He was rewarded by a throaty growl and she pulled his lips back to her own.

Booth heard his phone vibrate on the coffee table and they each let out matching groans of displeasure. Grabbing the phone, Booth listened half-heartedly to dispatch while he watched Bones try to regain her breath as well as some semblance of control. He hung up and explained their newest case between kisses he dropped on her collarbone. After a few minutes, they leaned back up and Booth helped Bones into her chair, following her out the door to their crime scene.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The case had been a bad one, a seventeen year old girl who was found buried in the sand at a playground. Despite the almost round the clock work they had been doing for the past three days, the squints hadn't turned up any significant evidence or leads and everyone was feeling the pressure.

"Come on Bones, do you have anything?" Booth asked as he leaned around her back while she stared at the girl's newly reconstructed skull.

"No Booth, when I get something, you will be the first to know," she replied, trying to reign in her irritation.

He breathed out, releasing his tension and stepped back towards the bar, trying to give her room to work. The platform was quiet as everyone worked on their respective evidence, scanning for even the smallest hint of something they'd missed.

Booth's phone broke the silence and he quickly took note of the information Charlie was giving him.

"Bones, I've got to go, Charlie has a lead for me with the drawing Angela made."

"Do you want me to come with you?" she asked him, her calm eyes magnified behind the frames of her glasses.

"Nah, I've got this one, you keep working on your end," he said before heading out the door.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Mr. Nigel-Murray, please hand me those x-rays," Brennan requested a few hours later.

"Little known fact, but in the early 1900's, legislation tried to ban x-rays because they thought scientists would use them to look through people's clothing," he said as he handed her the slides.

"We didn't notice it here," she started, ignoring his ramblings and pointing to the scans, "but there is a very hairline fracture on her left tibia. It crosses at her femoral artery. I don't think it's the cause of death, but certainly a start."

She picked up her cell, pressing her speed dial and frowning when she connected to voicemail. Trying again, she got the same result. She finally set the phone back down and replaced it with the tibia, pushing down the first traces of worry that were creeping in.

"Dr. Brennan, Cullen is on the phone in my office," Cam said from below, her own concern coloring her tone. Bones removed her gloves and wheeled herself into the office. The others abandoned their work and stared at the closed door in facination.

"Angela," Brennan called from the floor once she came out, "I need you to drive me to the hospital."

"Sweetie, what's going on?" Angela asked with worry as she rushed down the ramp.

"There was an accident when Booth was chasing that lead." Her eyes glazed over with panic.

"He's been shot."

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Ok, I'm heading on vacation so there may be one update before Friday, but probably not. I will update as soon as I get back because I know that was a really mean spot to leave you hanging! I promise I'll update asap!


	18. I Feel it in My Gut

I thought that I'd leave you on a better note before I head out! Tiny references to _Mummy in the Maze_ and _The Bone that Blew,_ but nothing too big.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

_I'm dead. I'm dead, I'm gone, I'm toast. She's going to massacre me. Oh lord this is bad. I'm so dead. _

As Booth tried to string coherent thoughts together, he noticed the first twinges of pain at the top of his shoulder. He blinked into reality; the dim hospital room empty save for him. He pressed the call button and the nurse came bustling in.

"Well hey sugar," Shirley said with a smile as she adjusted his I.V. and pain medications, "I was beginning to hope we wouldn't be seeing you two around here again."

"You and me both. Do you know where Bones, uh I mean, Dr. Brennan is right now?" he asked sheepishly. No matter how much he wanted to see her, he couldn't help but want to hold off what he knew would be quite a lecture for as long as possible.

Shirley gave him a knowing grin, "She's downstairs with that artist friend of hers," the nurse's tone turned chiding, "You gave her quite the scare there."

"I'm so dead," Booth repeated, dropping his head with a sigh.

"Well, before your funeral, can I get you anything?" Shirley asked with a laugh. That boy had it worse than ever. Booth looked back up at her, his charm smile making an appearance.

"Well, I know the cafeteria is probably closed, but some pudding would be a great last meal."

"You got it sugar," she said, laughing as she left the room.

Settling back into his pillows, Booth shook off the last traces of anesthetic as he mentally reviewed everything that happened. The soft squeak of rubber on linoleum brought him out of his trance and he looked over to see Angela pushing Brennan into the room. If the look sympathy mixed with relief painting Angela's face was any indicator, he was really in for it. The artist made quick leave and Bones rolled herself next to the bed, finally crossing her arms and raising an eyebrow in question.

"Hey Bones," Booth tried gently, trying to gauge just how bad her mood was.

"What happened, Booth?" Very bad indeed.

The agent tried to dodge the issue just a little longer, "Didn't Cullen update you on everything?"

"Yes," she replied, her intimidating gaze making him shrink into the pillows just slightly, "but I want to hear it from you." He let out a sigh of defeat and the gates opened.

"Look Bones—"

"How could you be so inherently stupid?" She cut him off, her cold eyes burning brightly now.

"Charlie told you this guy was dangerous, that he could maybe have killed our vic, and you go question him alone? Even when the place looked skirty,"

"Sketchy," he interrupted, holding back a grin.

"Whatever, when it looked _sketchy_, you still go in without backup? What the hell are they teaching you?" She was gesturing wildly and even though he knew that he should be offended, Booth couldn't help but feel a swell of laughter and happiness. She had been worried about him.

Her shoulders dropped and she shook her head, "You're always so damn adamant about keeping me safe. Why can't you do the same when I'm not around?"

He looked at her then, her flushed face, wild hair, burning eyes. Her fear became more apparent as the anger dissipated and confusion at his actions took its place.

"I'm sorry Bones," he said simply. It was all he could really offer. How could he explain to her that finding this guy, getting some sort of lead was so very important to him not just for justice, but for her? How could he explain how badly he wanted her to be proud of him for solving the case, for locking the perp away? He couldn't find the words so he just apologized again and again as he leaned over the bed, pulling her into as much of a hug as he could manage with his injury. He stroked her hair and whispered into her ear as she clung to him tightly.

They pulled back and she swatted at his arm, earning an indignant "hey".

"No more getting shot at when I'm not there to fire back," she declared pointedly.

"As long as you don't shoot me first," he teased, reminding her of that frightening Halloween together.

"It ricocheted," she protested and they dissolved into their familiar banter, matching grins adorning each of their faces.

The others came in later to check on him, staying for a while to talk and laugh before heading back to the lab to keep working on the evidence. The "Squint Squad" had finally found something they could use and they weren't going to lose it.

Booth was beyond relieved when the doctor said that he could go home tomorrow as long as he took it easy. Doctor Young even came in to give her regards. Booth was momentarily confused when she asked Bones if she was "ready to show him" but couldn't contain his joy as Bones, with the help of Dr. Young, shakily stood up. It lasted less than thirty seconds, but her elation was hard to contain as Booth let out a whoop and leaned over to give her an enthusiastic kiss. Tara just laughed, helping Bones into the bed to be closer to her overjoyed companion. Doctor Young had worked with many people in her career, but she hadn't seen someone work so hard or have so much support and love as the pair in front of her. Backing out of the room, she reminded Brennan of her appointment tomorrow and left the two to celebrate.

"Why didn't you tell me?" Booth asked later after a round of celebrating.

Bones shrugged from her spot next to him, "I didn't want to get my hopes up. I can't stand, not really, but Dr. Young seems optimistic."

"Bones, this is great. You should be happy about it," he said as he wound his good arm around her once again.

"I still have a long way to go, Booth. I can't celebrate every little thing. It's been six months and this is as far as I've gotten. This very well could be as far as my recovery goes," she reminded him while she toyed absentmindedly with the blanket.

Booth tilted her head up to look at him, "It's not Bones. You're going to be able to walk and run and do everything you did before." He sounded so convinced that she couldn't stop the tiny spark of hope that reignited in her chest.

"You don't know that," she said cautiously.

"Yes I do Bones, I can feel it in my gut."

She rolled her eyes with a small smile, "Well now I'm convinced."

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

A short time later Booth sat on the bed, watching the TV they'd conned a nurse into turning on while Bones napped contentedly in his arms. The soft knock on the door brought a smiling Max into the room.

"Hey Max," Booth greeted sheepishly while trying to unwind his arm from around Bones without waking her. They hadn't quite told anyone officially about their new relationship yet and he wasn't sure he wanted her father to find out like this.

"You're fine," the older man said, sitting down with a smile at his daughter. They gave into some quiet small talk for a few minutes before falling into a companionable silence.

"She's going to kill you, you know," Max finally said with a laughing grin.

"I'm surprised she hasn't yet, but I didn't mean to get hurt," Booth apologized sincerely.

"Well, that too, but I was referring to the fact that you want to ask me for her hand."

Booth sputtered, his eyes wide as he looked at Max's grinning face.

"I meant what I said before, you're a nice guy. You're also very traditional and I wouldn't expect anything less."

"Sir, I…"

"At the risk of her killing me too, for the record, there isn't anyone else that I would be as honored to have marry her."

"Sir, she doesn't believe in marriage," Booth cut in with the same shocked expression.

"Yes she does," Max said with a smile as he stood up, "She just had to find someone who could convince her."

He paused at the door with a wink before leaving and Booth gaped after him for a moment. Booth finally looked back down at the sleeping woman next to him. Glancing over at his clothes that the nurse had left next to his bed, he reached into the pocket, fingering the velvet box inside affectionately.


	19. Brace yourselves

Hey everyone, I'm back from vacation and here is the next chapter. The story is coming to a close and I want to say thanks for reading! One or two chapters more and thanks so much for sticking with the story this far! Enjoy!

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Hey Agent Booth," Katie greeted enthusiastically as he walked through the door. "Glad to finally be out of that shoulder brace for good?"

"Oh _yes_," he replied, stretching his now mobile shoulder for good measure. "Two months on desk duty is more than enough for me."

"As your frequent whining and mood swings could testify," Bones added cheekily as she wheeled herself up to the pair.

Katie laughed as Booth gave Brennan a mock glare and an indignant protest. The trio continued talking until Tara came to take Katie for therapy. Once Tara had signed off on his papers, Booth followed Brennan out of the room. As he watched her rolling herself down the hall, he watched her carefully. The past two months she'd been improving in therapy, but she'd also gotten better at hiding when she was discouraged. They were waiting for the elevator when a glint of metal caught his eye.

"What is that?" he questioned, leaning towards her legs for a better look. She tensed but the ding of the elevator saved her from an answer and his scrutiny, if only for a moment.

"Bones, what's going on," Booth asked again once the doors had closed, his concern outweighing his curiosity. She squirmed under his gaze but straightened herself out again.

"I don't want to talk about it," she said determinedly, looking straight ahead instead of at him. The doors slid open on the ground floor and Brennan blessed its timing while Booth cursed it. She rolled ahead of him and he couldn't help but feel like they were going backwards again and again. Running ahead, he blocked her as they reached the door.

He gripped the frame of her chair and invaded her space, "Are we _really _going to do this again, because honestly, I'm pretty sure I know the ending already." Her eyes flashed but she remained silent.

"I thought we were past this, Bones," he said exasperatedly, throwing his arms up as he paced in frustration.

"We are," she confirmed quietly, guilt seeping into her tone and soul.

"Then what the hell? We laid this out months ago. You know I'm here for you, so what's going on?"

She dropped her head and took a deep breath before leaning down to roll up the legs of her pants. Booth let out a small exhale of surprise as she revealed a pair of braces wrapping around the lower part of each leg.

"It's important that I wear the braces to ensure that my feet don't turn in as well as to maintain the strength that I'm building up," she gave the textbook definition in her 'logical' voice; the detached tone that Booth knew wasn't a good sign.

"I'm not even sure I understand it yet," she continued in a hushed tone, finally catching his eye, "not really."

"What's the plan then," Booth asked gently, silently accepting her even quieter apology. She breathed out in relief and told him everything Tara had briefed her on. Booth listened closely, nodding at intervals and feeling thankful that the situation wasn't nearly as damaging as he had imagined. He finally walked behind her and started wheeling her to the car.

"I'm sorry, you know," she said, turning to look up at him.

"I know, Bones. I know," he replied with a smile, squeezing the hand that had reached up to grab his own.

"I'm going to work on this," she promised solemnly, "I'll annoy you with my persistence."

"And that's different how?" he shot back and she gave him a light punch in the shoulder, their laughter echoing in the lot.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Making a quick detour, they picked up Parker from Rebecca's house before grabbing pizza and heading back to Bones' apartment. Booth had all but moved in and both adults were relieved when Parker was more than thrilled to be able to spend more time with dad and 'his Dr. Bones'.

The night went by smoothly, though Booth still contested Parker's domination at Monopoly. After Starwars, interjected with a frequent "Booth, I don't get it", the pair tucked the energetic nine year-old into bed.

"Oh no," Parker cried out suddenly as the adults were leaving, "We forgot a story!"

"I think it's a little late for that Bub," Booth replied, "Your mom would kill me if she knew how late you'd stayed up already."

"Please? Just one! I want Bones to tell it," Parker begged, pulling out his own charm smile. Booth turned to the scientist in question who looked pleasantly surprised to have been requested.

"Okay," Bones agreed, wheeling herself closer to the bed, "What would you like to hear?"

The boy thought for a moment, "I want to hear a story about you and Daddy, one of your awesome adventures!"

Brennan smiled at his exuberance, settling on a story, "There was this case once—"

"Bones, every good story starts with 'Once upon a time', haven't you seen Disney?" Parker corrected and Booth snorted from his position at the end of the bed.

"Alright," Bones quickly amended, "Once upon a time in Las Vegas, there was a couple named Tony and Roxie…"

The story quickly unfolded, and Parker listened with wide eyes as he learned about the undercover operation, the bad guys and the fights, though it was toned down a bit for the audience ("It didn't hurt at all," Booth boasted while Brennan raised her eyebrow at his fabrication).

"And we were able to save the day and help Billie," Bones finished quietly while Parker yawned and his eyes drooped.

"Did Tony and Roxie live happily ever after?" Parker asked in his quiet daze.

"Very," Booth interjected with a soft smile that Bones returned.

They tucked the boy in one last time and left, each caught in contemplation. Later, as she lay contently nestled in Booth's strong arms, Brennan couldn't help but feel like her life was truly complete.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The light streamed through the windows, dancing across the floor towards the bed. As Booth shifted from sleep to wakefulness, he smiled at the absolute perfection he felt. He had the woman of his dreams cradled in his arms and his son in the next room. _It couldn't get better _he thought, sighing in content. Feeling Brennan shifting from her position across torso, he looked down, waiting for her to awaken, though she fell back into slumber. His eyes trailed down the auburn hair cascading across his chest and down the rest of the form that fitted so perfectly within his. Even their legs, tangled in a night's slumber, seemed to belong around the other. He dwelled on this thought a moment before it finally hit him.

"Bones, Bones! Wake up," he exclaimed, shaking the woman on top of him.

"What's going on, what's wrong?" she asked, pushing herself up on her arms and trying to shake the sleep from her head.

"Your legs! Look at our legs!" he continued, almost bouncing in excitement. Bones did as he requested and he heard her breath quicken as she realized that her legs had _moved_ in the middle of the night.

"They've never done that before," she said, turning to look at him with wide eyes. She looked back down at their tousled feet and slowly her big toe quivered up and down.

"Do it again," Booth whispered excitedly. Both stared at her feet as the toes began twitching, slowly starting to dance on her command. She let out a sob of relief and Booth grabbed her into a crushing hug, their joy overtaking the room.

"I am _so _proud of you," he told her before kissing her soundly to emphasize his point. They continued this for several minutes before Brennan stopped them, reminding Booth that there was still a nine year old in the next room. "He won't be up for hours," he argued and Bones fell to the logic, pouring herself into the moment as well. As their kisses became more languid and heated, the door burst open, carrying a rambunctious Parker with it. The adults broke apart while Booth reminded Parker that no, he wasn't allowed into rooms without knocking and yes, he should apologize. Brennan smiled as a sheepish Parker, the spitting image of his father, apologized and smirked at Booth, refraining from reminding him that she told him so. Booth helped Bones into her chair and they followed the excitable child into the kitchen, ready to begin a new day.

The next night, as they lay together on her couch watching a movie, the same content feeling that Bones had been feeling throughout the weekend washed over her. She looked down at her feet, wiggling her toes again, just because she could. They'd visited Tara on Saturday to show her this newest trick and she confirmed that indeed, it wasn't a fluke and that there was a distinct possibility that Brennan would be able to walk again. Booth curled his arms more tightly around her torso, breaking her reverie. As illogical as she knew it was, Bones felt his love flowing into her.

"I love you," she said with her blunt nature. While it wasn't the first time she'd said the words, it still surprised him when she did manage to. He reciprocated and smiled again as he felt her toes squirm once more against his jeans. His smile grew wider as she slowly shifted herself in his arms, turning to plant a soft kiss on his lips. He returned her actions with fervor, enjoying the feel of her against him far more than any new release.

"We have to go to Founding Fathers," she mumbled half-heartedly against his lips, "The team said they were meeting for drinks."

"But staying in has its virtues," he replied, making her stomach quiver as he worked on her pulse-point.

"I can't do what I want to you in Public," he continued, "at least not without getting arrested."

Kissing him thoroughly, Brennan pulled back with a smirk, "And what exactly do you want to do to me that we can't do in public?"

His hands roamed lower, tickling along her ribs and making her hold back a giggle, "Something that we couldn't finish earlier and Parker won't be walking in on."

"Well that is a plus," she returned, her own hands traveling, "but let's not fall off the couch this time."


	20. More than ever

Final chapter! Thank you all so much for reading this story! I hope you enjoyed it! I have a few oneshots coming up so be on the look out! Happy reading!

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

A calm silence enveloped the car, wrapping itself around the occupants as they sped across the streets of DC.

"Are you nervous?" Booth asked suddenly breaking the silence that Brennan had grown accustom to.

"Nervousness, while useful in warning of danger, is entirely useless in this particular situation," she replied without looking away from the window. Though the answer didn't divulge her true feelings, Booth gave their joined hands a squeeze of sympathy and she couldn't hide the small smile that ghosted across her face.

The silence persisted as they edged closer to their destination and Booth watched as her foot, tapping softly at first, increased tempo against the carpet. When the hospital came in sight, the grip on Booth's hand tightened almost imperceptivity. The car rolled to a stop and Booth moved to open the door but Brennan's hold stopped him.

"Come in with me," she half-asked, her eyes betraying far more than she would have liked.

"Okay," he replied with a soft smile, gripping her hand once more.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Ngggh," Brennan ground out, her face red and sweat covered.

"Come on, you can do it," Tara encouraged her patient. They stood at the parallel bars, Brennan attempting to pull herself from the chair without using her upper body. The braces remained secure on her legs and Tara was situated between the bars while Booth stood to the side, practically jumping to help.

Bones finally lifted herself up, supporting her weight on the parallel bars, her feet dangling beneath her. Tara kneeled down adjust Brennan's legs and then stepped away, much to Bones' surprise.

"Okay, walk towards me," Dr. Young instructed, raising a brow in challenge. Brennan gulped a few more large breaths.

"You've got to be kidding me," she said between inhales.

Tara shrugged, "Unless this is as far as you want to get. Your choice."

Booth held back a laugh as Bones' eyes narrowed at the blatant dare. Rising from his seat against the wall, he walked over to the bars hoping to give some encouragement. Brennan took a final breath and pressed her lips together again in determination. Bracing herself once more, her arms shook as she put all of her energy into moving her quivering leg muscles.

"Come on Bones," Booth whispered, praying harder than he had in his life. Everyone in the room watched quietly as Brennan's left leg, trembling wildly beneath her, began to slowly rock forward. Brennan's lips stayed clenched together, along with her eyes, and she grunted and wheezed, trying to continue making the muscles move. Her foot, hovering an inch above the floor, slowly dropped down in front of her and she finally exhaled, the relief evident on her face.

"You did it Bones!" Booth exclaimed, rushing forward to catch her weight. Everyone was beaming, and Tara walked forward to the pair.

"How does it feel to know you're going to walk again?"

She could only smile in response.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

One Year Later

Blue connected with blue as Brennan stared at herself one last time in the mirror, caressing the soft crème silk of her dress. It was simple and elegant, draping softly over her curves and making her glow. She hadn't been in anything this formal since _that night_, but somehow, it felt right.

"Sweetie, you look beautiful," Angela said softly from behind her, making a final fix on the elegant bun Brennan's hair was swept up into.

"I'm ready," she said, surprised at the lack of terror she felt. Brennan took a steadying breath and turned to the large oak doors she had observed many times in the past few months.

"I am so proud of you," her best friend whispered in her ear as she gave her a final, tight hug before slipping through the door.

"It's time," Max said with a rueful smile, eyes glistening with emotion. Brennan nodded, her own smile gliding into place.

"Thank you dad," she gripped the grizzled man in a quick hug tightly. The doors opened again, and the strains of the organ floated to her. The crowd turned to look at her and her periphery observed their cheerful faces, but her eyes remained locked on the man yards away who beamed at her liked she'd never seen.

Looking reflexively at her left hand again and the simple diamond ring the adorned it, she smiled, feeling more sure of her decision than ever. Booth looked at her happily from the alter (getting married at the church was a sacrifice she'd been willing to make) and she beamed back at him.

"Ready?" Max questioned softly.

Placing her left in front of her right, like she'd practiced so many times before, she smiled back, "More than ever."

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

All Done! Let me know what you think! Thanks so much for reading!


End file.
